A Full Circle
by Princepen
Summary: This story is the sequel to "Man Out of Time" and picks up immediately after the events at the end of that story. It is 2367 and following the recent return of Captain Picard from the Borg, the Enterprise crew is caught up in a complex and sinister plot which threatens to splinter the crew and Starfleet. They must stick together if the Federation as they know it is to survive.
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

* * *

 _ **April, 2354-Abandoned Research Facility, Taltus III**_

Hearing his breathing pattern growing erratic, he looked down at the oxygen mix reading on his wrist; it was orange...a few minutes ago it had been green. Not good. He was running out of air. _What kind of person builds a science station to create artificial ion storms and then abandons it creating a hazard for passing starships? A colossal asshole, that's who...that's what Bev would say._ He laughed and then clenched his eyes shut briefly. _Oh God, don't think about her...or Wesley. Just focus._

He scrambled forward on his hands and knees, through the control tunnel, scraping them raw through the flimsy environmental suit. At this point, he didn't care. He just had to get to the power conduit on the other side of the control room.

 _Jack Crusher, you dumb sonofabitch, you should have listened to the captain and beamed back up to the ship once you discovered that this goddamn facility was responsible for the storms. We could just blow the thing sky high from orbit. Jean-Luc is not going to be happy with me._

 _"_ Lieutenant Commander!" T'Pel the science officer shouted from behind him. "The situation is now beyond our control, and the captain has ordered us to return to the ship before the ion storms present an unacceptable risk to the _Stargazer."_

 _Too late for that, T'Pel and you know it._ "You may be right," he called back at her, though not stopping his crawl forward. "But we've come this far...and if we can shut this generator down, we shut down the ion storm too."

"Your plan may not be illogical, but it _is_ foolhardy," she shouted.

"Foolhardy? That's a new one...illogical- I've definitely heard that one before," he murmured. _Come on, Jack. Focus._

Just then a plasma relay pipe exploded right next to his ear, and he fell forward on his faceplate with his hands trying futilely to covering his head. The pain was excruciating, and for a matter of dizzying seconds everything sounded as though he was submerged underwater. A moment later the sounds normalized and he felt a stream of blood trickle from his left ear. The wall next to him was now on fire, and T'Pel wouldn't be able to follow him through the tunnel. And if the science officer was still calling to him, he couldn't hear a damn thing with his ear now messed up.

He was up on his feet and staggering forward out of sheer will. The fire was making it too hot to concentrate, and he glanced behind him to find that part of the walkway had disintegrated. _Oh_ _well_ , n _ot going back that way._ He could see the far wall up ahead of him as the fire surrounded him making him feel faint. _Run, Jack_ , he thought he heard Beverly's voice say, and he did run as fast as he could. Leaping a large gap in the walkway, he almost slipped and fell, but somehow stayed upright, and reached his goal. The main control panel glittered in front of his smoke-filled mask.

His head snapped to the side as he heard shouts from below. His eyes caught on a half-broken utility ladder and he was elated to see that there was another way back down to the main level.

He heard the shouts again and looked down in the direction of the ladder.

"Jack! Jack!"

He laughed again, now feeling giddy and lightheaded from the lack of oxygen. It was Jean-Luc. "Jean-Luc, buddy," he muttered, beginning to work on the panel. "Always ready to risk your ass for me, even when I mess up." He yanked at an isolinear chip and a bolt of blue lightning shot out to zap his hand. "Ah!"

"Jack! This whole place is unstable. We've got to beam out," Jean-Luc was shouting again from below. Glancing down he could see T'Pel was with him as well. She was setting up a three pronged amplification device, Picard had brought with him. Picard was waving for him to drop what he was doing. "He's going to try and boost our transport signals so we can beam out of here. Just let me get this right, Jean-Luc, and then we can get out of here. Almost there, Jean-Luc," he tried to yell down, but his voice was so hoarse he couldn't project his words.

He heard a clanging below him and could see Picard was trying to climb upward to get him. He heard Jean-Luc grunt with the effort, as the broken ladder dangled underneath him as he held on tightly. "I'm sorry about this, Jean-Luc. I should have listened to you."

"You're damn right you should have, now come down from there Jack, that's an order!" He could see Picard out of the corner of his eye starting to pull himself up onto the walkway. That was when it happened. The explosion came from an unstable short in the control panel, and blew the innards of the control center outward. The explosion sent him spinning to one knee on the deck. Picard was suddenly at his side, lifting him up

Jack tried to thank his friend, but he'd been hit by shrapnel from the explosion, and a dribble of blood down his chin was the best he could manage, because his voice was hardly above a whisper.

He heard a sob, and realized it hadn't come from him...it was Jean-Luc, and he was crying for the first time since he'd known him. Dimly, Jack felt Picard move behind him and wrap his arms around his midsection. He looked down then and saw the jagged piece of metal protruding from his own waist. Picard was holding him together. He heard the transporter beam, and then he was lying in his back.

"Where..." he whispered.

"We're back on the ship, Jack," Picard's voice wavered. Jean-Luc' s hands were still pressed on his stomach, holding his intestines together. Medical staff tried to move him out of the way, but he fought to stay with Jack. Because they both knew it was over.

"Promise me," whispered Jack. His eyelids fluttered. "Tell Beverly I didn't suffer. Tell her I will love her forever."

"Yes, Jack, of course. Of course, I promise."

* * *

 **2367 In a distant solar system...**

He heard the hiss as the case opened above him and gas escaped from the rejuvenation chamber. It hurt his lungs to breathe at first, but then the sharpness warmed into a ball of life in his chest. He coughed once, twice and then sat up feeling the cold fresh air on his cheeks. His "friend" was there, as promised. "Well, looks like I'm still alive," he said hoarsely.

"Or maybe you should say you're alive again...except you're not quite you anymore." his associate said with a cool grin.

He squinted in the bright light. "But how do I look?"

Pots the trader grunted and leaned back putting his boots up on the chamber. He held up a small mirror in his grubby hand. "You look just like him...you got what you paid for alright."

"Ha ha...I'm an exact replica of Jack Crusher-risen from the dead...I love it!"

"As long as I get my cut of the profits I don't care if you love or hate it," said Pots. "Now come on, we've got a lot of preparing to do, if you're going to pull this off. The Boss wants to talk to ya."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 1**

* * *

 **2367 Distress Call**

Doctor Beverly Crusher wiped the back of her wrist across her sweaty brow. Her fine features were strained from the heat of the tropical jungle she and the rest of the away team had beamed into. She would feel the familiar creep of fatigue later on, long after she had returned to the ship. For now she was all business. She crouched down next to the limp and twisted body of a humanoid being, who was covered in drying dark purple blood. She shook her head. The level of carnage was shocking, and she would never grow accustomed to senseless violence. She checked her readings. The species of the deceased was not obvious, yet the uniform was quite familiar.

"This was a science team, and virtually unarmed," Riker muttered from nearby. "Only a few phasers for less than a dozen officers. No effort on the part of Starfleet to provide adequate protection for these scientists, or for that matter their work. Why attack them?"

No answer available, she touched the frayed blue and black sleeve of the former Starfleet scientist. _"No survivors,"_ she thought numbly as she scanned slowly over the body with the medical tricorder. _"No work for me to do here, except account for the dead and take some readings."_ She didn't want to look up at Riker. But she knew for a fact that he was waiting for her report. Finally she snapped the tricorder shut and looked up at him. "All dead," she said curtly, pushing herself up from the ground.

"I see that," said Riker, squinting into the sun which was beginning to set in the distance. He ignored the bile threatening to rise in his throat. He would need more than a report to understand what had occurred here. He glanced at Beverly, who stood still next to him, oblivious to the fact she was covered in mud. Not for the first time, he found himself impressed by how composed Crusher was under pressure. He hadn't seen her in a several days because of what he understood to be some extreme and sudden events having taken place in her personal life. He knew only because she had mentioned to him that she was now caring for a baby. He had been so shocked that he hadn't been able to respond in any intelligent way, which is probably what she had intended to happen. When she decided she wanted to discuss it further, he knew she would eventually confide in him.

But when she had arrived in the transporter room for the away team, she was so calm, so typically her that he had fallen into the old routine. But in truth nothing was routine after Wolf 359, and the Borg. An insistent distress call had led them to this tiny tropical moon near Klingon territory. For both of them it had been an unspoken relief to be away from the _Enterprise_ for an hour or so, and the general feeling of depression that currently enveloped the crew-at least it had been a relief until now. Riker waved at Worf who was approaching at a jogging pace from some distance away. "Sir, the perimeter is secure, with no sign of the attackers," he said. "Whoever did this has vanished. And there are no shuttle craft or other vessels present."

"The science team's mission report indicated a Miranda class research vessel…the _Nova_ was supposed to be orbit around this moon," Riker snapped. "So where the hell is it?" Just then his communicator beeped.

"Riker here," he said, tapping his insignia.

" _Away team, this is Picard,_ " came the familiar terse reply. " _You are to beam up from the site immediately to transporter room three and undergo full bio-decontamination procedures. Counselor Troi will meet briefly with each of you prior to your return to duty."_

"Sir there are no survivors…but we need to take care of the dead who are here—"

" _I'm afraid that won't be possible, Commander. Prepare to beam up immediately. Picard out."_

Riker shared a look with Doctor Crusher who was silent, but the defiant look in her eye spoke volumes. She was going to demand answers from the Captain eventually, and Riker could honestly say he would prefer to miss out on that conversation. He waved Worf's two security subordinates over. "Transporter Room three, this is the away team. Five to beam up."

* * *

 **45 minutes later…**

"Number One, I've been given direct orders by Starfleet Command to exit the system. And that's what we're doing."

Riker turned to look at the Captain, who sat rigidly in his command chair, eyes forward. Riker knew that look, which he knew to mean that Picard was uninterested in small talk, or full conversation for that matter. And when the captain was in such a mood, even extracting a one word answer meant fighting a losing battle.

"Sir, with all due respect, we owed those officers a hell of a lot more than what we just gave them."

"A recovery ship is on its way to care for the dead, Commander. Once the bodies are retrieved, the site will be quarantined indefinitely." He allowed Riker a small glance, before turning his attention to some readouts on his arm rest.

The flatness of Picard's tone cooled something in Riker, a part of him that had not forgotten coming face to face with Locutus. _But he's not Locutus anymore. He's back now._ He took a quick breath. "Any information on the missing ship, sir?"

Picard shook his head almost imperceptibly. "No. The research vessel _Nova_ has disappeared without a trace, along with its temporary crew complement of three. But it seems, Number One, that as far as Command is concerned, we are not to be in the _know_ , so to speak," he said finally allowing a wan smile, which unsuccessfully masked his irritation with his superiors. He seemed about to add something else, when the turbo lift opened in back of them and Counselor Troi entered the bridge.

Picard sighed and lowered his forehead into his hand for a moment. _Ah yes, the weekly counseling session…how could I forget?_ He turned to glare at Troi, who was standing patiently in front of his ready room with her hands clasped in front of her.

Riker tried not to smile with sympathy at the pained look on Picard's face. This had become routine in the weeks since his return from the Borg. It was Troi's job of course to continue to monitor the Captain's progress and his fitness for duty. Riker was certain that Picard understood that Troi was simply attempting to carry out her duties; however that didn't mean he had any intention of making things easy for her.

* * *

"As I just explained, Counselor, there is absolutely nothing to discuss. I don't know anything about this child!" _Aside from the fact that the Traveler dropped her off a few nights ago without explanation._

"Forgive me, Captain, but didn't the results of the genetic tests come back yesterday, confirming that you and Beverly are the biological parents of the baby?"

He glared up at the ceiling and then back down at Troi. "Yes."

"And so there _is_ something to discuss, Captain...your feelings on the matter."

Captain Picard sighed and placed a hand on his forehead, before dropping it to the table. "I'm sorry Counselor, but the only _real_ feeling I have on the matter is one of complete confusion. I don't understand why this has happened, and I have no idea what I am expected to do going forward."

"Well that's a start," she acknowledged with an approving smile. "Have you talked with Beverly about your feelings?"

He shook his head. "No, it only happened just two days ago. There hasn't been time." He cleared his throat. "Besides...I don't think she's very pleased with my initial reaction to the situation."

Troi leaned forward. _He is so right about that._ "What makes you think so?"

Picard leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes momentarily, tapping his index finger on the tabletop. _How long can I reasonably stall_? _How many minutes left in this session?_ Then something occurred to him and his eyes snapped open, just as the communication signal chimed.

 _"Crusher to Captain Picard."_

 _Oh no. I missed that damned appointment._ Picard sat forward dropping his forehead into the palm of his hand. He didn't even try to hide his weary expression from Troi. "Picard here...go ahead Doctor."

" _I'd like to discuss the away team mission with you. I don't understand why you ordered us to beam up when you did. We have a duty to the families of those victims—"_

"Doctor, I wholeheartedly agree…but I was under orders. If you'd like to see the full orders, of course I'll send them directly to your office, so that you can read them."

 _"Are you deliberately avoiding having any kind of direct discussion with me, Captain?"_

He didn't appreciate the implication that he was hiding. But if it was possible to sound both indignant and guilty, he managed to. "Of course not, Doctor."

Troi looked at him pointedly with raised eyebrows. "I should go," she mouthed a silent suggestion.

Picard held up his hand. "No, no, counselor, you can stay," he said quickly, suddenly grateful for her presence.

Beverly paused. _"Sorry to interrupt your meeting, Troi….Capain,"_ she said picking up easily were she had left off, and then switching to an even more difficult subject. _"Doctor Selar reported that you missed your physical therapy appointment this afternoon, while I was off ship,"_ she said accusingly.

"I had an unexpected briefing with Starfleet Command," he said. "Besides, I am feeling fine today."

 _"The surgical scars from the Borg implants are still healing. Until they finish doing so, you'll continue to have the nerve pain. The physical therapy regimen is designed to aid your recovery. We've been over this many times,"_ she said with clear frustration. " _As Troi is well aware,_ " she added pointedly.

"I feel fine," he repeated. "The pain is much less now. In fact I believe I can do all of the exercises on my own."

 _"I see...well, you seem to have your recovery all figured out, Captain... As to the…other matter between us, I am still waiting for you to make the time to discuss your daughter."_

"Beverly, wait!" She'd already cut the connection, and he closed his eyes in frustration. Eventually he opened them and turned to Troi, holding up his empty hands.

"If I might make a suggestion, Captain..."

"Please."

"The only thing you can do right now to make this better is to be honest with Beverly about how you feel about this new and...I agree quite incredible development in your lives."

Picard stared at her. "Counselor, I'm not convinced that honesty is actually the best policy in this particular instance. But you are right. I do need to talk with her before this...situation with the baby becomes even more difficult."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 2**

* * *

"The whole situation is messed up, Geordi," Wesley said, repeatedly scuffing his foot on the carpeting underneath the table.

"Leave the ship's deck alone…she hasn't done anything to you."

"She?"

"I may not have a girlfriend right now," Geordi said, putting lacing his fingers around the glass on the table. "But I'll always have the _Enterprise_."

Wesley stared at his friend incredulously. "You're kidding right? I mean, I'm looking for some advice here, and you're talking about women? Are you trying to send me further into depression?"

"Look," said Geordi. "It sounds like everyone involved is a little confused right now about what just happened. Why don't you just tell your mom what's bothering you?"

"It's not that simple. I mean, the baby is cute and everything, but where did she come from? The Traveler dropped her off a few nights ago? And my mother and Captain Picard are her parents? And they haven't said much to each other since it happened. This is just really strange, Geordi."

Geordi's brow creased underneath his Visor. "You're right…it is strange."

"That's it? That's all you have to offer?"

"Wes…what do you want me to say? I don't know anything about what Doctor Crusher and Captain Picard…" he abruptly dropped his gaze to the table and tapped the side of his glass.

"What?" Wesley prompted him.

Geordi cleared his throat anxiously. "Well, there have always been those rumors…uh, you know."

Wesley peered intensely at Geordi. "No, I don't know. What kind of rumors?"

"Look it's not appropriate, and I'm not saying I've heard anything specific, but don't they—don't they have like a…a thing or something…going on?"

Wesley folded his arms in front of him on the table and dropped his head down. Momentarily he looked up at Geordi again. "I can't believe this. Geordi, it's taken me three years to be able to make eye contact with Captain Picard—only when I really have to—and now, you're saying that he and my mother…." He sighed and pushed himself up from the table. "I can't believe I didn't figure this out sooner."

"Look, Wes, I just said there were rumors. Rumors don't have to mean anything," he called after Wesley as the teen exited Ten Forward quickly.

LaForge waved his cup at a passing server.  
"Um, could I get another one of these?"

* * *

"Report," said Riker stepping onto the bridge. Data stood up from the captain's chair smoothly and moved aside as Riker sat down in his place.

"Moments ago we received a subspace message from Starfleet Command," said Data. "It was a general all-ships message, sir, and should appear on your console."

Riker frowned as he read the message. "Two additional Federation star ships have gone missing without cause in the last week...one here in the Alpha Quadrant, the other in Beta. Communication simply stopped with these vessels. Additional instructions may be forthcoming." He looked up at Data sharply. "That's it?" Riker tried his best to put immediate thoughts of Borg involvement out of his head.

"Yes sir."

"Theories?"

"Two similar disappearances within such a brief time span suggests that coincidence is unlikely, Commander. Catastrophic malfunction or destruction of the ships are possible explanations."

"So is foul play," said Riker. "What happened to that science team was murder, Data."

"Yes. The disappearance of the _Nova_ could very well be linked to the other missing ships. However the attackers left few clues behind, Commander."

Riker tapped his fingertips on the armrest. "Well, we're not going to just sit here and _wait_...let's pinpoint the last positions of these ships, find out where they were headed, and get a briefing together for the Captain."

"Aye sir."

* * *

 **Elsewhere in the Alpha Quadrant**

Pots put down the data notepad and took a long drink from his bottle of ale. "We've been preparing for hours without a blasted break, M," he grumbled. "Where did you get all of this information about Crusher anyway?"

"Only the boss knows, Pots. And I'm assuming he has his sources. The way I see it, you do your job getting me up to speed, with minimal questions asked on your end…and there will be no delay in either of us getting paid," M shrugged. "Most of the info. has been thrown together through old personnel records and communications, our employer seems to have even hacked into old personal messages Crusher sent to his wife…but I heard Walker Keel also left some information behind before he died when his ship went bye-bye a few years ago. You know, some of the dirt. Apparently he was a big confidant of Crusher's—even more so than this Picard guy, who was supposedly he best friend."

Pots laughed. "You'd better get your story straight, buddy, or you're going to be found out."

"Not likely. I've been doing this kind of work for twenty- years, Pots."

"Not living inside someone else's skin, you haven't, M. This isn't the typical bounty hunter score. This is some deep shit you're about to get into."

"Some deep money, too…if I bring in the main prize as expected." M looked down at one of his hands and smoothed it over his forearm. Even the hairs on the arm weren't his own. "Hand me that mirror," he demanded, and Pots tossed him the hand held device. M smoothed his hand over his jaw and nose. The face was good looking enough, maybe a little generic, with dark brown hair and a square jaw. Not much of a chin though. _The goody-two shoes boy next door._ And the face was about as old as his own former face…mid-forties.

 _"He must appear to have aged appropriately,"_ his employer had said prior to the procedure.

He poked the cheek gingerly. The skin was still extremely sensitive. But it went deeper than the skin, he knew. Jack Crusher's genetics had been melded with his own in a two month process, to the point that his own body had given way to Jack's. When he emerged from the regeneration chamber, or whatever the doctors had called it, he _was_ Jack Crusher. At least physically.

The best part of it all, and maybe the key to everything, was the tiny implant that would distribute psionic waves when necessary to cause the people around him to be susceptible to suggestion. It was subtle. Anything too heavy handed would cause them all to become alarmed too quickly. _"This is going to make you a very popular man,"_ his employer had said.

"Strange how they can just grow a whole new body out of a strand of hair…a fingernail clipping," M murmured staring into the mirror. "They did a good job with the eyes," he said approvingly. "Nice brown eyes." He grinned. "Probably what his wife fell in love with first," he said with a wink at Pots. He wiggled his eyebrows up and down. He reached into his pocket. "Want to see a holo of her? Trust me, she's _hot_. Added bonus, I guess."

Pots groaned and drained the last of his giant bottle. "M…don't you think this is a little over the top? I mean, there are less complicated ways for us to get paid."

M tossed the mirror back to Pots. "But where would be the fun in that?"

"And what about our new boss? What do we know about this guy, M. Have you ever even met him in person? Seen his face?"

M stared at his friend. "Don't get cold feet on me now, Pots...not after what I just went through. We do this, we're set for life. Now, just read the questions again, okay?"

Pots sighed heavily. "Where are your parents from?"

"New Chicago, Earth."

"When did you first meet Beverly Howard?"

"2340-umm, 2345?" M corrected himself quickly.

"We've got a lot of work to do, M. You're not Jack yet."

"Give it another few weeks. I'll be there."

* * *

Picard leaned back in his chair at the conference table and listened as Data updated his senior officers on the latest intergalactic crisis. Ships were missing, but the information regarding their disappearances was extremely limited. In any case, Data had prepared a report and was now delivering it as promised.

"Since Starfleet first informed us of these missing ships six hours ago, two additional ships have gone missing."

"Two?" said LaForge, from his seat across from Data.

Data nodded. "Including the science vessel _Nova,_ this makes five ships missing in just seven days: the _Phoenix_ , the _Sausalito_ , the _Acadia_ , and now the _Fermi_."

"The _Fermi_ is also a research ship," said Crusher. "I considered a posting there just before I requested the CMO position here." Picard glanced at her, briefly making eye contact for the first time in a few tense days. She looked back at him with an expression that was hard to read. Still he found he did not want to look away.

Riker shook his head in confusion. "The _Acadia_ is a supply ship, and the _USS Phoenix_ and _USS Sausalito_ are both explorer vessels…like us…and now two research vessels?"

"If you're going to start picking off starships, why not follow a pattern?" Geordi asked. "It just seems so random. What other characteristics did these ships have in common?"

Troi looked up as the captain rose from beside her, straightening his uniform with a firm tug. He began to wordlessly pace the room with his hands clasped behind his back. From experience, she knew he was distracted and was attempting to center his thoughts.

"According to the mission status reports of each of these ships, the ships and their specific missions have nothing obvious in common," said Data.

"Aside from the fact that they are Starfleet vessels," Worf said darkly. "That may be enough to mark them as targets."

"True," Will said, glancing over at the Captain who was now staring out of the view port.

"Do we have the final ship's logs yet?" Deanna asked. "If we could piece together the last impressions of the commanding officers of each vessel—"

"Not going to happen," Riker said. "Starfleet is telling us the most recent logs are currently classified at least for now."

"Well if they want us to investigate the disappearance of these ships, they'd better give us some more information," said LaForge.

"No one has asked us to investigate," Picard said, suddenly turning from his stance by the window. "At least not yet. Which is why, it seems our information is being kept to a minimum." He looked down at his boots again and then paced back to the table, leaning his elbow on the back of his chair. "What else do we have, Data?"

"Each of the ships disappeared from sectors of space in three of the four quadrants of our galaxy. The _Sausalito_ is a Renaissance class explorer and was on a particularly deep space mission in the Beta quadrant at the time of its disappearance. The other ships however, were located at points within the more well traversed and heavily populated sectors in the Alpha and Beta quadrants when they disappeared. There are two commonalities I have been able to pinpoint without closer examination of the actual space in which they disappeared," continued Data. "The first is that subspace communication with each of these ships simply ceased abruptly and without warning."

"Indicating without the aid of further investigation that is, that a sudden emergency or destruction during battle is unlikely," said Riker.

Data nodded. "And secondly, each of these ships was traveling within 60,000 kilometers of a Class D planet at the time of its disappearance."

Riker frowned. "That's damn near in orbit!"

"That means all of these ships were traveling at or below impulse power," confirmed Geordi.

"Class D planets are normally not habitable by anything more than micro-organisms," said Beverly. "Which doesn't rule out an attack, but certainly microorganisms don't create the kind of violence we found down on the research moon."

"And unless they're similar to nanites, they don't steal ships either," said LaForge.

Worf's frown grew more pronounced. "Perhaps there is some correlation between each of these planets?"

"Seems unlikely given the distance," said Troi.

"Counselor Troi is correct," Picard said, walking away from the conference table again. "The pieces don't fit together. Not yet."

Riker watched Picard carefully, unsure of whether he meant to wait to hear from Command or not. But soon enough he had his answer.

"Last known location of the _USS Phoenix_ ," prompted the captain.

Data tapped at a pad built into the table next two him. Momentarily a star chart floated above the table. Data stood up and placed his finger next to a small disc shape, representing the _Phoenix_. "The _Phoenix_ was last seen here at Quadrant 902 mark 4, which is located in the Beta quadrant."

"Those coordinates are located deep within Klingon territory," said Worf.

"How long will it take us to reach those coordinates at warp 8, Mr. Data?"

"Four hours, two minutes, sir," said Data.

"Make it so," said Picard, and straightened. "You're all dismissed. Thank you."

Beverly hesitated when she passed by. "I'll have the cause of death reports from the away team mission this evening, Captain. Would you prefer I send them to your ready room, or can you make the time to discuss them in person?"

He glared at her, as her pointed comment was not lost on him. "I'll come down to your office, Doctor, thank you." A very complex expression crossed her face, but it seemed to him she decided to save her commentary for later. With one more backward glance at Picard, she wordlessly followed the others out of the room.

Picard was still staring at the table, and hadn't noticed Troi's continued presence, until he heard her soft footsteps. Jerking his head to look at her, he seemed momentarily disoriented. "Counselor, didn't you hear me dismiss you from the meeting?"

"Yes sir. However…I stayed because I am concerned about your reaction to the news of the two new missing ships."

"My reaction? Why?"

"Your internal reaction, not external, sir." He simply glared at her waiting for her to explain. "Captain you decided to investigate the disappearance of the _USS Phoenix_ first. With no orders. Why?"

"I don't have to explain my command decisions to you, Counselor," he snapped.

"That is correct, you don't," she said simply, still waiting.

"Counselor, we've lost too many ships recently. We can't afford to lose anymore."

"But why is the Phoenix your first choice, sir?"

He clenched his fist and pressed it into the underside of the obsidian table. "The Phoenix, as you no doubt know, was one of 40 ships to meet the Borg invasion at Wolf 359. Thirty-nine others were destroyed…but the Phoenix survived." He looked at her finally. "Would you have me leave those officers to perish, Counselor?"

"Captain, they may have _already_ perished for reasons we still do not know. What is really going on here is that you continue to blame yourself for the deaths of eleven thousand people lost at the hands of the Borg."

"At the hands of the Borg," he said sounding deflated as he sat down heavily. He felt his breath come quicker in his chest as he stared down at his own hands. "Tell me, Counselor," he said, still hunched over. "When I look at my own hands…I mean really study them...how do I distinguish them from those hands that directed the actions of the Borg during a battle which extinguished eleven thousand lives?"

When he looked up at her, she felt he really did want an answer from her; one of course which she was unable to provide. "Sir..."

"Please go now," he said quietly.

* * *

"You've been too quiet, Wesley and I don't like it," Beverly said over dinner that evening. "I know this is hard for you. I'm telling you, I have no idea how or why Jeanette has arrived in our lives, but I could really, really use your support right now."

Wesley slid his plate away from him. "Mom, of course you have my support," he said, still looking and sounding gloomy. "Just let me know how I can help, you know with changing diapers or whatever," he mumbled trailing off.

She smiled, and reached across to take his hand, but he pulled it away. Her smile faded. "Wes, what's going on with you?"

He looked up at her. "Mom, why didn't you tell me that you and Captain Picard have a—a thing going on."

She flushed and shook her head quickly. "I told you everything I know Wesley…the Traveler brought her to us two nights ago. She does have our genetic material and she is our child. But she…well she wasn't conceived by us exactly…not that we know of." She winced at the look on her son's face.

"Mom, there are rumors going around the ship about you and the Captain."

She laughed. "Really? I _highly_ doubt there are any rumors about us. Where did you hear that?"

He shook his head. "It doesn't matter. I just wish you had told me. I would have gotten over it. And now, you have a baby."

Beverly covered her eyes with her hands. "Wesley, Captain Picard and I do not have a _thing_ going on beyond our long-standing friendship. If we had, I would have certainly let you know, because you are my son. And I _don't_ care if there are any rumors circulating or not." She got up from the table and walked away with her plate, dumping it into the recycler loudly.

Wes stood up and followed her across the living area. "Mom, I'm sorry, I just find the whole thing confusing."

"So do I," said Beverly, and walked in to her bedroom where the baby's crib was situated. Jeanette was quietly sleeping, and she felt an immediate warmth at the sight of the little baby. She touched the baby's soft curl on her forehead and smiled. Gradually her smile faded as she remembered she was supposed to meet the Captain in her office. She turned away from the crib to face Wesley. "Could you watch her for a while? I have to meet the Captain in sick bay."

Wesley nodded. "Sure." He studied her face. "What did he say when you told him you named the baby after him?"

Beverly sighed and stepped past him toward the door to their quarters. "I haven't told him," she admitted. She pulled her blue lab coat on when she reached the door.

Wesley gaped. "Why not? Mom, he deserves to know!"

"Wes, has he come to see her yet?" She shouted suddenly. "Has he shown _any_ interest?"

"Whoa...Mom, I'm sorry," he said, surprised by his mother's sudden release of emotion. Wesley walked toward her and reached out to embrace her. She returned her son's hug briefly before letting him go. "It's only been a few days, Mom, maybe he's in shock. Besides, isn't he kind of afraid of kids?"

"I have to go," she said distractedly.

"Mom, have you considered that maybe Jeanette showing up now is some kind of sign?"

She turned around and stopped very still, clasping her hands together. "Yes. Yes, I have."

* * *

Hi, Thanks for reading and reviewing this story. Peace out. - T.A.F.K.A.P.P.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 3**

* * *

 **2367 Somewhere in the Alpha Quadrant**

 _"Violence should be avoided at all costs...at least at first."_

M sat back and watched the view screen. His employer was starting to make him believe that there was a third party beneficiary of this whole arrangement. More and more conditions were being introduced. "Understood."

 _"Do you really understand? You're not used to this kind of nuanced work, M."_

"Call me Jack," M replied with a thin smile. "Kind of trying to stay in character here," he reminded his boss. "And don't worry, I know how to finesse when I have to."

 _"Good. And I see you have worked on mastering Crusher's voice...of course the genetic boost had to help. Now, as I was saying, if you have to do away with the captain of the vessel, that is understandable, as he might impede the purpose of this project. But again, not right away, to be safe."_

M nodded. "If I have to do it, I can always make it look like an accident."

His employer was purposely shadowed on the monitor, but M thought he glimpsed an approving smile. _"That is an intelligent strategy, Jack. Proceed with the plan when you believe that you are ready. A shuttle is being prepared for you."_

* * *

 **Somewhere in Klingon Territory a Few Weeks later...**

When Picard arrived in the main sick bay, it was nearly empty, and Beverly was nowhere to be found. He hesitated before walking the rest of the way to find her there in her cramped office. The glow of her computer screen played across her features which held an intense expression of concentration.

"Hello", he said when she did not immediately look up from her work. Earlier they had agreed to meet here, hadn't they?

"Hello, Captain." Crusher pushed her chair back slightly and she glanced up finally.

Her intentional emphasis on formality was unmistakable. He took a deep breath. "Look, Doctor, I realize that-"

"Here's your report, Captain," cutting him off with unusual briskness. She rose to her feet and handed him a small disc.

He took it slowly and let his hand drop to his side, still looking at her. _What exactly does she want from me?_ She sat back down in her chair and watched him with a wary expression as if awaiting his next move.

If this was indeed a game, there was no doubt he was losing-in fact he admitted, he wasn't even certain of the rules. _Surely my conduct has not been so horrendous over the last few days,_ he attempted to assure himself silently.

Beverly folded her hands neatly in her lap and gazed up at him with a neutral expression. "I'm happy to discuss my findings with you sir, either before or after you've read it," she said sounding as perfectly professional as ever. There. By making this statement she had clarified the terms of their meeting. She knew he was here to receive her report, and that as far as she was concerned, those were the limits of her expectations. It seemed she had let him off the hook when he had least expected it. Or had she?

He carefully placed the disc inside his data pad and snapped it shut, before raising his chin to look at her again.

"Thank you," he said with a small but genuine smile. "I'm inclined to read it later. Truth be told, the powers that be have so far stifled all communication about this attack. And although I have offered to send your report to aid in the investigation, I haven't yet received a response from Command."

Crusher frowned, and now her barely concealed irritation with him seemed to depart for the moment. She was nearly always annoyed, he had come to know, by the bureaucrats at Starfleet Command. Whether she realized it or not, this was something they shared in common. He envied to a degree that she was more free than he was to express displeasure with their superiors. It was well understood to be within the purview of CMOs to grumble on a regular basis about having to take orders at all, let alone orders they did not agree with. Perhaps it was a reason she had tired of Starfleet Medical after just one year, although of course she had been the one giving the orders then. He'd never directly asked her why she had returned so soon...or more to the point why she had left so abruptly. Perhaps one of these days, he would ask her. But in this instance, it was the deceased officers she was thinking of, and he knew she was already wondering whether Starfleet Command would conduct a thorough investigation.

"You would think," she said, "that finding out who...or what killed those poor officers would be a top priority. As you will see in my report, it was a bloodbath. Horrendous."

He nodded. "Worf reported that there was evidence of multiple attackers, although how many exactly, he and his team couldn't be sure."

Beverly continued. "The scientists had phasers of course, and there was an exchange of weapons fire, with the killers having used an energy weapon similar to a disruptor. Yet the fatality wounds were caused by of all things, some kind of sharp blade, or blades used at close range."

"A hand held weapon?"

She nodded. "Whoever killed those scientists were professionals. They didn't stand a chance, and they didn't die slowly. They were toyed with and tortured. The way those people were made to suffer was horrific, Jean-Luc."

"Indeed." He nodded and sat down on the edge of her desk. He looked down at the floor but felt her watching him. "For now my hands are tied," he said quietly before raising his gaze to meet hers. "But I will do what I can to ensure some kind of justice for those lives that were taken."

She took in his determined expression and smiled faintly. "Yes...I know you will. Because you always do."

He glanced away and there was a long silence between them. Finally he looked at her again. "I apologize for my...my neglect of our situation these last few days."

Beverly grew instantly defensive. "She's not a _situation_ , Jean-Luc, she's a baby."

He blinked. "Yes, of course." He tugged absently at the fabric covering his dangling knee. "It should be no surprise to you that I'm not so well-versed with regard to...these kinds of things. But I would like to see her."

Beverly crossed her arms over her chest, looking more surprised than defensive now. "Oh?"

He nodded. "Yes... I'd like to visit the baby...if that is alright," he added.

Instead of being pleased with him, which is what he had expected, she looked even more upset. "Of course, it's alright, she is your child! You don't need permission."

"I don't?"

She sighed, and brushed a hand through her hair tiredly. "Look, Jean-Luc, this won't be easy for either of us...but it doesn't always have to be this difficult, does it?"

He raised his eyebrows. "I don't know, Beverly, I have no concept of what to do in this situation."

She suddenly slapped her palm on her desk and stood up to face him. He took an involuntary step backwards. "Goddamn it, Jean-Luc, you think _I_ know what to do?" She put her hand to her chest. "I wasn't expecting a child to come into our lives anymore than you were. The difference is, I have accepted the _situation_ _,_ as you like to call it, and you are still in denial."

He made a face. "That's nonsense," he snapped.

" _No,_ it isn't," she said, moving from behind the desk. "The genetic tests came back already, with very clear results. And you're standing here still trying to decide if you want to be her father or not."

He closed his mouth tightly and just stared at her. Despite her physical nearness, she seemed as far away from him as she had ever been. It was as though they were speaking different languages. She wasn't entirely wrong about his attitude toward the baby, but did she really think he was so selfish? An odd and complicated set of feelings had in that moment invaded his mind and heart. He looked at her squarely. He hadn't felt this way before, and so he had no idea what it meant. "I told you that I would like to come see her," he said resolutely. "When can I do that?"

She was about to answer when his communicator buzzed. " _Data to Captain Picard_."

He tapped the combadge, acutely aware of Beverly's probing gaze. "Go ahead."

" _Sir we are approaching the last known coordinates of the USS Phoenix. The target area is in orbit around an uncharted Class D planet."_

 _"_ Very good. Keep the ship a reasonable distance away from the exact coordinates, and stay out of orbit. Scan the area, and stream the results into my command terminal." He hesitated. _Command doesn't even want you out here, Picard, no matter what the scans uncover. Let it go, and don't disappoint Beverly further,_ he challenged himself. "And Data, please notify Commander Riker when the scan is complete. I have other business to attend to."

"Yes, _sir."_

He looked at Beverly whose expression was again a mystery to him. But he took it as a positive sign that she looked more relaxed than she had just a moment ago. He took a steadying breath. "Shall we?"

* * *

They halted outside of her quarters. "Is Wesley...?" He nodded toward the door, suddenly aware that he hadn't discussed the baby with anyone besides Beverly and Troi. But Wesley was of course affected by this sudden change as well. What would he think about it? Would he be happy?

Beverly looked at him curiously. "Wesley's fine. He's been a big help. In fact I asked him to watch her while I met with you."

"Oh," he said. As had been his habit for many years when he found himself in close proximity to Beverly, he steadied his breathing and kept his body posture as loose as possible. As was also his habit, he grew uncomfortable when a nosy civilian crew member slowed her pace in the hallway, glancing sideways at them. Beverly shook her head slightly and muttered something under her breath, after the woman passed.

"Hmm? I didn't hear what you said," he pointed out.

Beverly blushed, apparently reluctant to explain. She looked at him, clearly considering whether she should say more or not. "My son told me there are rumors going around the ship," she finally blurted out.

Picard shrugged. "Rumors?"

"About us."

"Oh...you mean gossip," he said slowly. Something occurred to him, and he cracked a smile, which he quickly corrected, resuming a serious expression. But it was too late, he'd been found out.

She crossed her arms and glared at him. "Is that all you have to say?"

He mirrored her feigned outrage. "For the moment...yes," he said indignantly.

She glared at him. "Alright...fine," she said, punching the door lock and walking inside.

* * *

Wesley was standing in the living room, facing away from them. When he turned, Picard saw that he was holding a small blanketed bundle in his arms, and was lightly patting the baby's back. "Oh...hi Captain," the boy said with some surprise.

Picard nodded and put his hands behind his back. "Wesley."

Wesley glanced at Beverly. "Um, she's in a bad mood, Mom. She's hungry and sleepy at the same time, I think."

Picard watched silently, attempting to keep his increasing visceral terror hidden from view. How calm they were, how casual they were in the face of... _oh shut up, Jean-Luc._

Beverly laughed and took the baby from her son. "I know you are in a bad mood," she murmured, kissing the baby on the forehead. "But it's okay." Picard forced himself to inch a bit loser. "Look," she said, still talking to the baby, but turning the infant slightly toward Picard. "Someone very important has _finally_ come to visit you."

He sighed inwardly, but knew he deserved the jab. He smiled at the baby, but her eyes seemed focused on some distant point beyond his face. He cleared his throat. "Hello," he told the baby. Haltingly he reached out to touch the side of her face. The baby moved her head back and forth unsteadily and then pressed the side of her cheek into his palm. Her skin was unbelievably soft. He knew she was just struggling to control the new muscles in her neck, as she leaned into him, but he felt an unexpected surge of emotion, that caught somewhere in his throat. He glanced at Beverly and uttered an involuntary laugh. She smiled at him for the first time in days, and it was a soft smile, in no way guarded. He smiled back, at which point he supposed it was merely a coincidence that the baby's face contorted in apparent outrage, and she let out a blood curdling cry. Wincing, he looked at Beverly for guidance.

"She's hungry," Beverly said simply. "I'll feed her and then we can see about getting her to bed."

He hesitated and then started to follow her. She slowed and turned halfway around to look at him with amusement. "Are you planning on helping me?"

"Well I..."

"There will be plenty of time for you to help care for Jeanette," she assured him gently, reaching for a bottle on the counter. "But she's a light sleeper, just like me, and she's had too much excitement already. Why don't you stay here with Wesley, and I'll be back in a few minutes?"

Picard glanced at Wesley in silent alarm as she disappeared into her bedroom. "Jeanette? She named the baby Jeanette?"

Wesley stared back at him wide-eyed. "Um, yeah. I mean, yes sir."

"Wesley...you don't have to call me sir, when we are discussing the baby," was all he could think to say.

"Oh, okay sir."

* * *

Riker rested his chin in his hand and stared down at his reflection in the table. The Captain had ordered him to go over the data from the scans from the last known location of the _USS Phoenix._ His stomach rumbled again. _Time for dinner._ "Thoughts?"

"There is little evidence that the _Phoenix_ was here, let alone to explain why it disappeared," Worf grumbled from across the table.

"Data, do you concur?"

The android sat perfectly still at Riker's side. "Lieutenant Worf is correct that the evidence explaining the disappearance of these ships is sparse, however the evidence that exists is not insignificant."

Riker perked up slightly. "Go ahead," he prompted.

'"Lieutenant Commander LaForge and I were able to isolate at least one common link among all of the missing ships: ionic radiation."

"You mean residue from an ion drive of some kind?"

"An ion drive is a very...retroactive source of propulsion," Worf said. "There are very few cultures in this area of the Klingon Empire that still employ ion drives. And none have vessels capable of destroying a Federation starship."

"What if the _Phoenix_ wasn't destroyed?" interjected LaForge. "I don't think there was a ship with an ion drive involved here. Hypothetically there could have been an ion storm that could certainly have put off some the same kind of radiation."

Riker rubbed his beard. "An ion storm? What's the connection though? Each of the missing ships were in areas of space so distant from one another, I find it hard to believe that they were all coincidentally caught up in ion storms over a period of a week."

"Typically an ion storm may harm or temporarily confuse a ship's sensors. However it will not cause a ship to...disappear," added Data.

"Yeah, but there have been instances where an ion storm could destroy a ship-maybe that's what happened here, Data," said Geordi.

Data inclined his head slightly. "Yes, it is a possibility, although the odds do not favor such an occurrence."

Riker sat back in his chair. "All you would need is a few seconds, maybe a few minutes to cause a diversion. Maybe that's what happened here."

"Sir?"

"The _Phoenix_ and the other ships...they flew into someone's trap."

* * *

Wesley had wisely beaten a retreat into his bedroom, leaving Picard alone. When Beverly arrived back in the living area, she glanced at the captain who had moved to sit down in a soft chair. He stood up when she entered the room.

"Don't get up, please relax," she said. "Would you like some tea?"

He sat back down in the chair and folded his hands in his lap. "Tea would be lovely."

She smiled as she brought him the steaming cup of Earl Grey. She sat down across from him with her own cup of something warm. She held it between both hands and gingerly sipped from it as she watched him.

He shifted uncomfortably. "The baby is asleep?"

"The _baby_ has a name, now, Jean-Luc," Beverly said. "How long did you expect me to wait for you? She deserves a name after all."

Jean-Luc pulled a chair closer to the coffee table and set his mug of tea down. "Jeanette…you named her Jeanette."

Her face twitched tensely. "I was trying to honor you both by naming her after you, but if you don't like the name…."

"No, no," he said quickly. "I am very honored, indeed. Thank you." Her expression softened slightly as she watched him. He realized that it had been a long time since he had been so nervous. He gripped his knees tightly to regain his composure. "I realize that my behavior over the last few days has probably not inspired much confidence, but—"

She sighed and put her cup down. She crossed one leg over the other. "It would have been better if I had waited for you to come around, I realize that. We could have named her together."

He shrugged. "I defer to you. Besides, I left you to handle everything on your own."

"It's just been a few days," she admitted. "I don't know why I flew off the handle with you like that down in sick bay. Honestly, I'm sorry."

He cleared his throat. "Well, it has been a stressful few days. In any case, I promise I will do better."

She smiled, appearing to relax a bit. "Good. Let's take things as they come, and just try to adjust. I just ask that you visit her and share in the responsibilities of caring for her."

He rubbed his palms over his knees. "Yes, of course," he agreed. He took a drink from his tea, closed his eyes and allowed the warmth spread in his chest. He felt better, much more relaxed. Perhaps he would even sleep more soundly tonight. He was thinking about how best to say goodnight, when he opened his eyes and realized she was staring at him with a very open expression on her face. He realized it was at this point in almost every previous conversation that they ended the discussion, or moved on to less personal subjects. But, he realized, the only reasons he was here this evening were personal. He had come to visit his child for the first time.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked him quietly.

"I was thinking...that I should be more curious about where Jeanette came from. But for some reason, I'm not."

She nodded and looked down at her hands. "I know, it's easy to forget that a few days ago our lives were completely different." She shivered and rubbed her upper arms and looked at him again, as a small smile played over her face.

"What?"

"Earlier in the hallway, when I brought up the subject of rumors about us, you didn't seem the least bit surprised. And you laughed."

Despite himself, he laughed again.

She studied him closely. "Why are you laughing? What could possibly be so funny about the crew discussing our personal lives? I would expect you of all people to be upset by this revelation, Jean-Luc."

"Me? Why?"

"Because you are intensely private, that's why! And because I'm sure you think you are supposed to be setting an example for the rest of the ship."

"Well..."

"Well _what_? Out with it," she ordered him.

He shrugged and thought of a way out, but there was none. "A few months before the Borg...I was held captive briefly by a highly inquisitive race, if you recall. While I was gone, an imposter took my place. According to Riker he sang sea shanties in Ten Forward, and engaged in other...odd behavior."

She broke into a slow smile. "You think something went on between me and your double, don't you?"

He simply raised his eyebrows. "Let's just say, that, based on what little you implied upon my return, yes..."

" _Implied_? Jean-Luc, I didn't say a word to you about anything-not that anything actually happened," she added quickly.

He raised his hands in mock defeat. "Alright, fine Beverly. I certainly believe you."

She pointed at him. "No you don't, I can tell you don't believe me...and more to the point, you blame _me_ for the crew believing we are in some kind of a relationship!" It was her turn to laugh. "In fact, this isn't about me, Jean-Luc, this is about _your_ vivid imagination."

He frowned, unnerved by the turn in the conversation. "Now, look here, that's not quite fair, Beverly-"

He broke off, interrupted by incessant beeping. " _Riker to Captain Picard."_

She gave him a look that promised she didn't intend on dropping the topic for long. Picard sighed. "Go ahead, Number One."

 _"Sorry to disturb you, Captain, but there is an incoming message from Starfleet Command, marked urgent."_

Picard stood up with his hands on his hips and glanced down at Crusher who smiled sympathetically up at him. "I'll take it here," he said, moving to a monitor on Beverly's desk.

" _Captain Picard,"_ said the admiral on the view screen. " _You were under no orders to proceed to the last known location of the USS Phoenix."_

"Admiral Naguchi...no sir, but I thought it would aid in Starfleet's investigation, and so I took the initiative-"

" _Captain, normally, your efforts would be appreciated. However, as we've seen in the last few months, these are hardly normal times. And you have new orders, which you are to follow without delay."_

"Sir?"

" _You are to immediately cease all investigation of the missing ships, transmit all data from your scans related to the Phoenix, and proceed to Star Base 773 near Andorian space."_

Picard glanced over the view screen at Beverly, unable to mask his confusion. She crossed her arms and listened intently. "Sir," Picard ventured. "As a starship captain, I was acting within my discretion to follow the evidence in order to aid a sister ship."

Naguchi's expression was immovable. " _Captain, once you arrive at Star base 773, you are to cease all outgoing communications until further notice. All of your incoming communications will be monitored. No member of your crew is to depart the Enterprise until directly ordered to do so by me."_

"Sir, am I under some kind of investigation?"

" _Why do you ask, Captain? Have you done something that warrants a Starfleet investigation?"_

Picard bristled. "Sir, I would like an explanation-"

" _Captain, if I were you, I would tread very lightly,"_ snapped Naguchi. " _I expect no divergence from my orders, am I understood?"_

"Yes sir," said Picard tightly, just as the screen went to black.

"What in the hell was that about?" Beverly demanded, walking toward him.

He leaned over the desk. "I have no idea. But something is not right."

* * *

 **Meanwhile at Star base 773**

"I see your Starfleet rescuers have pampered you nicely, Jack. But more importantly, I sincerely hope that you have your story straight," said his employer from the small view screen.

The image of his employer was completely shadowed, and the voice, as usual seemed deliberately distorted. Jack lounged back in his temporary quarters. Not quite like home, but it would have to do. "It is just a story, right? I mean the more I explain it out loud to these people the more ridiculous it sounds."

"Has anyone seriously questioned your assertions yet?"

"No. No one's on to me yet, but these star base types aren't exactly the sharpest Starfleet has to offer as far as I can tell. I'm a little worried about how it will all play out once I'm on the _Enterprise_."

"Maybe you're not up to the challenge after all. Should I be looking for a replacement already, Jack?"

Jack laughed and shook his head. "Hell no, this is going to be so much fun. It's just a…I'm still a little bit sketchy with some of the details."

The shadowed figure on the screen grew very still. "What information exactly," stated his employer, "do you believe you are missing, Jack?"

"I get that you want the ship delivered…."

"In one piece."

"Yeah, of course. But—well I don't understand why we can't just go straight to the coordinates if you want the ship so badly."

"My purposes and the means to execute them are really none of your concern, Jack. You will take them to each of the sets of coordinates given to you exactly as planned."

"Fine, fine…but they've been asking me about the psionic implant. They've finished scanning me, and of course asked several times if I was aware I had an implant behind my right eye, and what its purpose was."

"And you said?"

Jack threw up his hands. "I've been stalling…I didn't know what the hell to say!"

"I will send you additional details then, Jack. Just make sure you communicate them correctly to Picard and his crew."

"Got it... fine."

"And how is the psionic implant functioning?"

"It's working," said Jack. "But these Starfleet doctors are giving me the willies with their endless exams. There's been no corner or orifice of my body that's gone unexplored, I can assure you-"

"I don't care, Jack. The only thing I care about is that the _Enterprise_ arrives at the designated coordinates in the manner in which I have instructed you."

"Sure, sure…now about the implant. Its power is weaker as the mark gets farther away from me. But it works. When I was first in the hospital here, I tried it on an orderly and had him bring me seven glasses of water in a row. Each time, he thought it was the first and was shocked to find the glasses adding up."

"And when he walked away he became less sure of your inane orders?"

"Seemed to, at least."

"The psionic device, while ingenious is hardly foolproof, Jack. You will find that the more the target wants to believe you or to follow your lead, the better the device will work. On the other hand, if the person doubts you—or even worse believes you to be a fraud…you run the risk of exposure. No one said this would be easy, Jack."

"Hmm…well, I guess that means I will have to keep my targets as close as possible…so they won't forget who the boss is, if you know what I mean."

"Do you really think you are the boss, Jack?" The question was a clear challenge.

Jack felt a small pang of fear generate at the base of his throat that made him question for the first time whether this was all going to be worth the money. "Well…look I just meant—"

"I will send you the information to complete your profile and back story, Jack. Do not fail in this."

Jack winked and attempted to point charismatically at the screen, but the connection was cut before he could reinforce that his employer should have nothing but the utmost confidence in him.


	5. Chapter 5

**_Chapter 4_**

* * *

 _"Captain's personal log, Star date 44386.3: After having been ordered to abort our current mission in Klingon territory, the Enterprise has been rerouted to Star Base 773, a remote, primarily medical facility. At our current warp speed we're scheduled to arrive early tomorrow morning. Once there, we've been ordered to dock and await further instructions. While I dislike being kept in the dark, I am sure that all will be revealed in time. In addition, after meeting with Commander Riker late this evening, I learned some information pertaining to the disappearance of the USS Phoenix...information that has now left me unsettled..."_

"Computer, pause entry," Picard said, finding that the occasional urge he had to record his personal feelings had already left him. For several minutes he stood silently at his bedside, deep in thought. Finally, he put his hand on the back of his neck and bowed his head. His muscles felt so tight they were coiled uncomfortably underneath his skin. _Your rehabilitation exercises only work if you actually do them, Jean-Luc,_ Beverly had scolded him recently.

He pulled up his pajama sleeve and stared at a long scar on his inner right forearm. The prosthetic device the Borg had attached to his arm had been very heavy, and the scars ran deep. Beverly assured him his scar tissue would gradually fade, particularly if he massaged it. But he had no intention of showing any kind of comfort or care to these reminders of his weakness at the hands of the Borg.

He knew that the scars were remnants of an experience he would never truly be able to face, no matter how many counseling sessions he attended. The scars would fade...or they would not. Until then, he would try to ignore them. Despite his silent pledge to himself, he touched the small circular indentation on the right side of his forehead. A constant reminder of the ocular implant which had been drilled into the top of his skull and through his right eye. He had been awake for that procedure. In a memory as real as the present, he suddenly saw a whirring drill approaching his right eye. Back in the present, he blinked, as an involuntary twitch took hold of the right side of his face.

"Just a memory", he murmured, steadying himself on the edge of his dresser. He rubbed the side of his face and forced himself to glare into the mirror, silently daring the pale, murderous automaton to glare back at him. But it was only him.

And yet the visual memories clung to the edge of his vision, and were now completed by the sounds and smells of the innards of the Borg ship. He closed his eyes again as a wave of nausea accompanied by memories of every single transgression by the Borg, hit him like a wall. The whine of the drill grew closer. Unable to move most of his body, he'd tried one last physical attempt to deny the Borg. But his body was held by invisible restraints. There had been no pain, because of course the Borg took measures to ensure that assimilation was not a complete physical burden. Perhaps they believed that the initiate would only fully realize what was happening to them if they were awake and conscious of the futility of struggling.

He had been aware. He had known everything. Despite the monotonous refrain of the phrase _Resistance is futile_ in his mind and all around him, he had in fact resisted. Had he not resisted, and had his crew not been so creative in their defeat of the Borg, Earth would have been destroyed.

His life, once quite orderly had been ripped asunder by the Borg, and now there was no order at all, just pieces of him, some repairable, some perhaps not. He imagined sometimes that the still healing physical scars were fragile fault lines overlaying was left of his old self. If the scars did not heal as they should, what would emerge from beneath his broken skin...Jean-Luc, or Locutus? Who indeed had been the victor, and was the battle for his psyche in fact over? Only he knew the extent of this dichotomy.

And now, while still immersed in this confusing state, Jeanette had arrived in his life without warning. He and Beverly had of course known one another for years, but were just learning to become good friends around the time the Borg captured and assimilated his body and mind. Now very suddenly, he and Beverly had a link neither of them had ever anticipated. And neither one knew really what to make of this. Strangely those thoughts calmed him to an extent, but then he remembered Riker's report.

After leaving Beverly's quarters earlier that evening, he'd met briefly with Riker, who had updated him on the scans. Riker explained that all of the missing Federation ships had disappeared from areas which now bore traces of ionic radiation. To Riker this was puzzling, but Picard now fully suspected foul play. And just like that, all of his thoughts had turned to old times, to the darkest period in his life...darker even than the horror he had just been through with the Borg. Most significantly, his thoughts turned to Jack Crusher.

By all accounts, Picard had many professional colleagues, but few close friends. Jack had been more than a friend to him. Jack to him had been the younger brother he'd never had, allowing Picard to be the older brother his own brother Robert had never been to him. And Jack had died one terrible evening in the midst of trying to free the _Stargazer_ from an ion storm. the original mission had been a two man investigative away team-Jack Crusher and Picard's science officer and occasional lover, T'Pel. There had been a distress signal of some kind, down on the station, and the passing _Stargazer_ had gone to investigate what appeared to be. But it had proven a trap.

Jack and T'Pel's arrival inside the station had somehow triggered severe ion storms. Within minutes, the _Stargazer_ had lost power to one quarter of its systems, had been slowed to a crawl, and transporter use had become dangerous if not impossible. When T'Pel discovered the ion storms were generated by the seemingly abandoned science station, she had contacted the _Stargazer_ to recommend they exit the system by attempting to destroy the station. He had ordered their return to the ship, but Jack had disobeyed the order, convinced that he could free the ship from the away team's location. He had paid the ultimate price. Jack had died from the explosion of the main control panel. Upon beam out, Picard had been oblivious to the fact that the explosion had ended the computer generated storms and the Stargazer was freed. He hadn't been aware of anything, except for the fact that his best friend was now dead.

And from that night on, for many years afterward, Picard had felt as good as dead himself, because he hadn't been able to save his friend. Over the years, his guilt had faded, but only in its intensity.

The abandoned station, and its origins had since remained a mystery, which Starfleet had shown no interest in solving. Jack's death had been a tragedy of course, but not, ruled Starfleet, because of any direct human fault. Although Picard had attempted his own investigation after Jack's death, it had gone nowhere, eventually eclipsed by his court martial at the hands of Starfleet following the loss of the _Stargazer_ just one year later.

If the storms the _Phoenix_ and other ships encountered recently had been anything like that faced by the _Stargazer_ crew that fateful night, they easily could have been destroyed. He doubted it mattered whether there was a mechanical or natural source for the recent ion storms. But he knew one thing. "Those ships are gone," he whispered.

He turned to look down at his bed. It was as neat and orderly as ever. But he had no intention of disrupting this order, because in fact he had no capacity for sleep at the moment.

* * *

 **Twenty minutes later...**

The holodeck program had done the job. He had run the program as fast as he could, and due to the amount of rolling hills he had programmed in, he was suitably tired after he finished his one man race. But, as exhausted as he was, when he stepped out of the doors into the corridor, he draped a towel around his shoulders and headed in the opposite direction of his quarters.

The ship hallways were mostly empty, but Picard was somewhat surprised to see that Wesley Crusher was also roaming at midnight. He slowed and called after the young man who was facing away from him. "Mr. Crusher," he said, by way of greeting.

Wesley turned quickly and took in the Captain's t-shirt and sweat pants, forgetting for a moment that he was standing barefoot in his pajamas, outside of his quarters. "Sir?" He shivered in the low light. "What are you doing up, sir?"

The boy's expression caused Picard to feel a twinge of dismay. He suddenly wondered if everyone had always walked on eggshells around him, or if he simply placed his crew more on edge since returning from the Borg. He wasn't sure which scenario was worse. He smiled, trying to put the young man at ease.

The cool air chilled his perspiration and raised goosebumps on his shoulders. He tugged at the towel around his neck. "I could ask you the same question, Wesley," they both jumped slightly at the unmistakable sound of a baby crying. "But then I don't think I have to," he added wryly.

Wesley laughed. "Yeah," he said, shuffling his bare feet restlessly. "If you came to see the baby, you're in luck sir...she's awake." He was unable to stifle a yawn.

Picard smiled. "Yes, so I hear..."

Wesley laughed again and then tilted his head toward the door. "I think she's calming down again, sir." He looked up at Picard. "Is that why you came? I mean-it looks like you've been exercising or something, but-"

"Yes. I came to see if everything was alright." He sighed. "I know I should be doing more to help your mother with Jeanette, Wesley. I can't let all the responsibility fall on the both of you. But..."

"But now that you're here, you're not sure how to help?"

Jean-Luc's smile faded slowly when he thought of the way things had been left between him and Beverly. Their conversation had been mostly positive, only to be interrupted by a priority message from Command. "Yes, I suppose so," he admitted.

Wesley nodded. "Um, you could take turns trying to get her to go to sleep. That's usually what Mom and I do..." He trailed off uncertainly.

Picard nodded, and scratched his chin. He gestured towards the door. "You're sure your mother won't mind if-"

Wesley froze. He had no idea if his mother would be upset or not that he had invited the Captain into their quarters in the middle of the night. But now he couldn't actually tell the Captain to leave, could he? "Uh...nope," was all he could manage.

Picard let his smile return again. "Thank you," he said, walking past Wesley. But he hesitated and then turned back. "This whole situation with the new baby…well as your mother may have told you, we didn't expect—."

"I know, sir," Wesley said quickly. "Sir, you don't have to explain about Jeanette."

Picard looked at the teen. "Really?"

Wesley frowned and then blushed. "Well, yeah...Mom told me about the Traveler appearing out of nowhere and taking you both by surprise."

Jean-Luc glanced away and was silent for a moment. "I'm sorry Wesley. Perhaps I was wrong to assume that this would be difficult for you. Clearly, I underestimated you, and the insecurities I thought you might face are simply my own."

Wesley now looked surprised. "What do you mean, sir?"

Picard looked at Wesley for a moment more, and felt an immense sadness come over him. He was remembering Jack again. He shook his head slightly. "It's nothing," he said, but then reconsidered, feeling he owed something to the boy, who was treating him kindly, giving him sound advice. "If Jack were here…he would be so proud of you, Wesley."

Wesley took a deep breath. "I know, sir. But he's not here…and you are."

Jean-Luc was somewhat taken aback by that statement, but he said nothing, just watched the boy as he apparently had more to say.

"Remember a couple of years ago when we took that shuttle ride together and I told you I thought you would make a great father?"

Picard nodded.

"Well you will be a great father to Jeanette, and I should know. Because that's the way you've been with me."

* * *

When Picard and Wesley stepped inside, Beverly was standing holding the baby, who had settled down a bit. The crying, Picard noted, was more subdued. That said, Beverly looked completely exhausted. She slowed her rocking of the baby when she saw them enter, and her eyes widened in a mixture of surprise and confusion. She raised her eyebrows at Wesley conveying that she was not entirely sure she was pleased with the intrusion. The baby was now making a grumbling sound, a trait which Picard instantly acknowledged she had surely inherited from his side of the family.

Wesley glanced at Picard, as his mother waited silently for an explanation.

"Um," Picard began.

"Shh!" Beverly admonished him.

He nodded, snapping his mouth shut.

She pulled back to look down at the baby's head on her shoulder. Satisfied that Jeanette was now asleep, she tiptoed past them without another word and disappeared into her room.

Wesley almost immediately gave the most exaggerated yawn and stretch, that Picard could not help but shoot him an annoyed glance.

"Time for bed then, Mr. Crusher?" he said sarcastically.

Wesley nodded, having no intention of waiting for his mother's return, headed for his room with a backward wave. "Goodnight, sir..."

Feeling an incredible amount of trepidation for some reason, Picard sat down in a chair. He draped the damp towel over his knee, cognizant of how silly he must appear, arriving at her door uninvited, believing he could be some help to her. He was considering leaving, when she re-emerged into the living room.

She walked over and sat down heavily across from him. "So..."

"I apologize for arriving unannounced-"

"But you were out for a run at midnight, and thought you'd stop by."

He sat up straighter, now on guard. "Yes."

She finally smiled at him tiredly. "It's fine, Jean-Luc, in fact, I'm glad you did."

"Oh?"

"Yes! At least now you can see what I've been dealing with every night."

"Is this...is this normal for a baby?"

She shrugged. "Of course. Mainly she needs to get on a schedule, which is what I'm trying to help her to do. Then things will get a bit better."

She stretched and then got up to replicate two cups of warm milk. She handed him one before sitting back down.

He sniffed the mug. "Thank you. By the way, I apologize for my appearance," he said gesturing down at his sweatpants and t-shirt.

She sipped her drink silently, while looking rather intently at him over the rim of her cup. Presently she lowered the cup, but was still staring at him.

"Why are you looking at me that way?" he asked her.

She smiled again, but this time something mischievous flashed in her gaze. "I...I realized something just now. It's good to see you relaxed, Jean-Luc. It's not a side of you I have seen, since before the Borg." _And not often before then._

He shrugged slightly, uninterested in any mention of the Borg.

"And I like seeing you out of uniform again," she added quickly.

He raised his eyebrows. "Again?"

"I wasn't entirely telling you the truth about your alien double before," she said, sounding only partially apologetic. "In fact, he asked me on a date," she said. "And I accepted your- _his_ invitation."

Picard laughed. "Really!"

"Yes, really," she shot back. He stayed silent, which only seemed to increase her agitation. "Aren't you in the least bit curious about what happened between us?"

"You told me before that nothing happened...besides, it's really none of my business. After all, it wasn't really me."

She looked at him with barely contained outrage. "Alright..."

He sighed. "Beverly, look, I'm very sorry, I just feel distracted right now. What I would like to know is how I can help you with Jeanette. I feel...useless," he admitted. "Perhaps if I had some kind of monitor, so I could be aware when she is awake at night..."

She nodded, forgetting her irritation for the moment. "I'm sure we can figure something out."

"Beverly I have no idea how to be a father," he blurted out after a moment more.

"But you'll try," she said. "You said you would," she reminded him.

He nodded, determined. "I will do my best."

Abruptly a loud cry issued from the bedroom.

He looked at her, and she sighed wearily. "I think it's time you held the baby."

* * *

 **The next morning in dock at Star Base 773...**

"I'm afraid I don't understand your meaning, Admiral," Picard said to the man sitting across from him at the conference table. "You were tracking our movements? Why?"

Admiral Naguchi sat back with a thin smile. "A precaution you could say."

"I still do not follow, sir. I also must insist on learning the reason the _Enterprise_ has been ordered to remain docked here until further notice, and yet we've been forbidden to visit the station."

"In time Captain-"

"Sir, respectfully-"

"Captain, now is not the time to question your superiors," he snapped. "Not _now,_ when we are still picking up the pieces left behind by a devastating Borg attack. I know I don't need to remind you and your officers of the loss of life we sustained in that single fateful battle, Captain."

The point was taken. "No sir." Picard sat stone faced with Lt. Commander Data, and Commander Riker on either side of him. When he replied to Naguchi, Picard folded his hands in his lap, which Riker immediately recognized as a subtle sign that the captain was attempting to keep his emotions in check.

 _He's really pissed._

"Good," said Naguchi. "Now that I have your full attention, I have something for the three of you to listen to. Lt. Commander Data's involvement is quite necessary."

Picard frowned and glanced at Riker but said nothing.

Naguchi placed a small data pad down on the table, and waved his palm over it. "Now…these subspace recordings were recovered at two of the locations of the recently missing ships: the Phoenix and the Acadia. We are still piecing together information from the relays as we speak, and not all of what we have is…available for you to hear yet."

It was difficult to make out the words that now floated through the ready room, but there were two speakers at least. Two of the voices were unmistakable. Picard looked at Riker who had turned very pale suddenly. Even Data, who was already quite pale, looked genuinely surprised.

"What?" Picard stammered. "What is this?"

Naguchi held up his hand for silence as a very patchy transmission continued to play.

 ** _"...operation ... underway."_**

 **" _Understood, Billy-boy..._ _back to planning your mutiny…we'll see this one through for the Empire..."_**

 ** _"Troi..."_**

 ** _"...watch your back with her. She's liable to stick a long knife into that mechanical heart of yours."_**

 ** _"...concern is duly noted, Number One..."_**

 ** _"What about the Doctor? She's bound to find out..."_**

 ** _"Leave her to me..."_**

The Admiral studied the reaction of the _Enterprise_ officers closely. "These voices are currently being authenticated as belonging to you Captain Picard and you Commander Riker."

"That's impossible," Picard said, at the same time feeling completely stunned. "Neither of us was anywhere near those coordinates at the time those ships disappeared, Admiral. Now I want to see—"

Naguchi held up his hand. "Now, now, Captain. Before you go making demands, I am telling you that _right now_ no one of any importance suspects you or Commander Riker of having any involvement in these two ships disappearing. However, there is something very sinister going on that must be sorted out. Now you are to remain here Starbase 773 as ordered and await clarification, which I assure you will be forthcoming." The Admiral rose up from his seat at the table and stepped quickly out of the conference room.

Picard turned in his chair and looked at his officers, unable to hide his shock at having heard his own voice, both foreign and eerily familiar, echoing light years away from where it should have been.

"Well _that_ was unexpected," Riker said.

* * *

Riker stood next to science station one and leaned his elbow up against the wall. "Captain, I have one important question…how the hell could our voices have been caught on subspace at that time and place?"

Picard crossed his arms. "I have no damned idea, Number One," he said, sharing Will's quiet tone. "But Data is going over the transmissions now, and I trust he will help us to sort this out. Someone, somewhere…possibly in Starfleet Intelligence obviously has made some kind of error."

"Or someone is trying to set us up, Captain."

"And why send us sixteen hours out of our way across the Alpha quadrant just to be confronted with this...bizarre information? This starbase is nowhere near any sectors where the ships went missing. Either way something about this does not seem right, Commander, and we have to stick together on this."

"Always, Captain," Will agreed.

* * *

 **Hey, thanks for your reviews and for following the story. Hope you enjoy as it goes along.** **Take care.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 5**

* * *

Beverly picked up a half eaten piece of toast and jam, and gave it a half-hearted sniff before dropping it back on her plate. Her usually vigorous appetite had mostly left her.

"Everything okay, Mom?" Wesley munched his own breakfast while studying his data pad.

"Hmm? Yes, I'm fine," she said. "Just thinking."

"Do you know why we're still docked at Star base 773?"

"No," she said, looking over at him. "I figured you would have all the inside information, since you were up on the bridge yesterday."

Wesley shrugged and put down what he was reading. "I don't know really. But both the Captain and Commander Riker were acting really tense about it. Even Data seemed weird."

"Data, weird? Never..."

"Seriously, they were meeting with an Admiral in the conference room around 0700 yesterday morning. The Admiral left alone and returned to the base, and the Captain, Commander Riker, and Commander Data came out a while later. Like I said, the Captain seemed tense. Anyway, that's all I know."

"Huh," Beverly gave a short laugh. "Jean-Luc has been nothing but tense for the last two months. I can't blame him. He's still struggling to get back to the way he was."

"He seems healthier physically," Wesley said.

"He is…he's made remarkable progress." She picked up her toast and took a small bite before looking at her son. "Did he say anything to you about his daughter the other night?"

Wesley shrugged. "He just wanted to make sure I'm okay with everything."

"Which you are," she said giving him a small wink. "And of course it means so much to me that you are. What else?"

"He...I think he really wants to help take care of her. But you know how he is about kids."

She raised her eyebrows and nodded. "He did come by again last night again though...I'm sure it will get easier."

"Maybe I should move to my own quarters," Wesley said suddenly after a long pause.

She pushed her saucer away from her. "Where is this coming from?"

He sighed. "It's just that in the next six months I hope to be going off to the Academy. As long as I score high enough on these entry exams, I should be all set."

 _I really cannot think about him leaving. Not right now._ "And?"

"And…it might be nice to see what living on my own will be like."

She reached out to grab his hand. "Okay, but does it have to be right this minute? I know she's driving you crazy with being up all night. But you have to admit, it's nice that you and Jeanette and I can be a family."

"Don't forget the Captain," Wesley said, taking a sip from his glass of milk.

She sighed and let go of his hand. _"_ What are you getting at?"

"No, I just mean he's part of the family now too after all."

She felt her face grow warm and she looked down at the table. "He's Jeanette's father, yes...but I told you, Wes, he and I are simply good friends. Despite what your mysterious ship-wide sources are telling you."

He shook his head. "I'm over that, Mom. It's none of my business. But…for friends you seem to argue a lot."

"Friendly arguments between friends, Wes," she said with a small laugh.

"Right," he said, laughing too.

* * *

When Riker stepped into Picard's ready room later that morning, he saw that the Captain's chair was turned away from the door. He thought he'd heard the Captain signal his approval for Riker to enter, but perhaps he hadn't heard anything at all.

"Data tells me he's almost done with the analysis on those voice transmissions we heard yesterday morning. And, as you requested, here are the crew rotations for this month, sir." Riker held the data pad out for longer than he felt was reasonable, before clasping his hands in front of him.

The captain didn't turn the chair to face him, and for a moment he had the horrible feeling that when he did turn around it would be not Picard but Locutus, fixing him in his sights. He still had nightmares about those events which had almost spelled the end of Riker and the rest of the crew...in fact a devastating invasion of the Earth had been averted only at the last minute because some part of Picard had been able to communicate with Data, putting the Borg to "sleep".

Ultimately they had been spared...physically. But he knew it would be some time before he could sleep through the night without hearing himself give the order to collide with the Borg cube. And he would never be able to forget the coldly cruel alteration of Picard into Locutus. Will tried to shake his morbid thoughts. The Captain was back with them now.

Picard who had a ship to command, was doing his best to give the appearance of control. Yet, Riker could see that for Picard, the transformation back to himself again was taking some time. The captain, although still healing, seemed to be making consistent progress in returning to form. Since his return from the Borg, it wasn't unusual for Picard to become silently lost in thought for stretches at a time. When Riker had mentioned this to Deanna with concern on his mind, she had reassured him that this was part of his healing process.

"He's taking stock," she'd explained. "Of what?" Will had asked. "Everything," Deanna had replied. "Imagine your mind and body being enslaved in the way the Borg manipulated the Captain in a single minded program over which he had no control or say in the matter. Now suddenly his mind and body have been freed and he must do his best to learn everything about who he was before. No doubt he is finding that he can never be quite the same. And...he may not want to be."

"Sir...Captain, are you alright?" Suddenly it occurred to Riker...was he sleeping?

Still turned away in the chair, the captain's head jerked forward slightly. "Alright! I'll go and get her this time. Just hold on..." he cried out hoarsely.

"Sir?"

Emerging from his dream, Picard spun the chair toward Riker, rubbing his fatigued eyes. "Sorry Riker. I must have dozed off." He yawned and covered his face with his hands. Riker noticed with relief that he had regained his normal skin tone, and looked strong again; no longer a pale shell of a man. "I haven't been getting very much sleep lately," he admitted, yawning again. He finally took the report from Riker, blinking down at it with blurry eyes.

 _Sounds like Beverly is giving him instructions even while he is sleeping._ Riker smiled and sat down on the couch across from him. "Sorry to hear that sir. I have a feeling I won't be taking us off topic when I ask you how things are going with little Jeanette?"

Picard raised an eyebrow. _Little Jeanette?_ Was Riker really asking him a question related to child care? Was there _anyone_ on board who did not know about the baby? Picard shot Riker a look. "Well, to summarize...no sleep," he said tiredly, returning to the report. Momentarily he handed the data pad back to Will. "Very good, thank you."

 _They can't possibly be sharing quarters. Don't push it Riker...none of my business._ "Have I told you that I happen to love babies, sir?" Riker said breaking into a wide smile.

Picard looked at him sourly. He decided against asking Riker just how long he had known his daughter's name. He wasn't sure he would have liked the answer. "You know...it's never come up for us in conversation before, Commander. I can hardly imagine why not..." he added dryly.

Riker leaned back on the couch and his smile faded gradually as he regarded the captain. "I just want to let you know sir, that if you need anything...anything at all."

Picard glared at him, but when he realized Riker was no longer pulling his leg, he relaxed somewhat. "I appreciate that Commander. And...I will be sure to tell Doctor Crusher that you may possess some helpful cross-training as a babysitter."

Riker laughed and then rubbed his chin. "Sir, I'm just dying to beam down to that star base, and find out why we're really here."

"Me too, Number One," Picard admitted. "But for now, we'll have to carry out our own discreet inquiry, until we have the go ahead. You said Data has the report ready?"

"Yes, sir, he's in conference room one."

* * *

As it turned out, Data wasn't quite ready after all. When Picard and Riker entered the room, he was staring vacantly toward the door and moving his lips soundlessly. "Data…what seems to be the problem?"

The synthetic muscles in Data's jaw twitched oddly, and he turned to the captain. "No problem at all, sir. I am simply completing a program I intend to run for you and Commander Riker momentarily. As you requested, I attempted to isolate and enhance the audio of the segment, and believe I have achieved the best possible version available." He blinked rapidly and his mouth clamped shut. "There, the program is finished."

Picard raised his eyebrows and glanced at Riker. "Please proceed, Mr. Data."

Data's eyes went slightly vacant again, and his mouth opened as though in mid-sentence. His vocal chords emitted a strange buzzing tone, and then abruptly they heard these words:

" _The Operation is underway,"_ said Riker's voice. The tone wasn't quite right though.

" _Understood, Billy-boy,"_ said an unmistakable Picard. But the uncharacteristic sneer was downright hateful. " _Now you can go back to planning your mutiny. Don't worry…we'll see this one through for the Empire whether I have your loyalties or not."_

" _This is a young man's game, Picard,"_ said Will's voice. _"Your day is coming, but it doesn't mean we don't still have some use for each other."_

" _Younger men than you have found themselves groveling and crawling away in agony at the mere mention of my name, Riker. And eventually you'll do the same if you keep up your games. Besides, I'll never be too old to take what I want even if it's yours. Just ask Troi."_

" _You can't take what I'd gladly give away at this point, Picard. She's betrayed me too many times to count. So have your fun, but then I'd suggest you watch your back with her. She's liable to stick a long knife into that mechanical heart of yours."_

 _"Your concern is duly noted, Number One...now you said the traps are set. Now we simply await our prey."_

 _"What about the Doctor? She's bound to find out, and then what? We're no good, exposed, Picard."_

 _"Leave her to me...I still have some influence over her."_

They heard Riker laughing harshly. _"Those days are gone, Picard. She doesn't need you anymore."_

 _"She doesn't need anyone, Billy, which could be the Empire's downfall-but then that's why we have our little alliance now, isn't it?"_

Momentarily, Data's eyes lost their fixed stare, and his mouth shut rather mechanically. He blinked at Picard and Riker who stood together in stunned silence. "Data," Picard said eventually. "How…close are these voices to our own? The Admiral said they were being 'authenticated', however I am quite certain that the man speaking is not me."

"And it sure as hell isn't me," said Riker. "Nothing those two said even made any sense at all to me."

"Likewise," said Picard. "In any case, it is not us."

Data didn't hesitate. "The voices are your own, within a reasonable measurement of 98.9 percent accuracy."

"Still that leaves some margin for error, Data. Couldn't someone have manipulated our real voices or simply fabricated them in some way?"

Data nodded. "It is certainly possible sir," he conceded. "If one were to obtain a sample of your voices, a highly accurate reproduction could certainly be made even with rudimentary technology. However, I would suggest based on the limited evidence that this conversation took place in real time, and was not a recording."

Riker exhaled loudly and rubbed his forehead. "I don't get it. This is bizarre."

Picard straightened. "And what is this Empire they were discussing? I have no intention of waiting until I am briefed again...let's look into this further."

Riker nodded curtly in agreement. "Yes sir."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 6**

* * *

 **A few days later...**

"Don't get me wrong, Jean-Luc, I appreciate that you are coming to visit the baby more often..."

Picard stood stiffly with his hands behind his back. He had just arrived in her quarters just seconds after she had finished her own shift and she was exhausted. He stepped aside as the nurse walked quickly by him and out the door.

"If this isn't a good time, Beverly, I can come back later."

"Well, I just got off shift, I'm sure you understand. Barbara said Jeanette was pretty quiet today-"

"Who's Barbara?" he inquired with a frown.

"The _nurse_ who just walked right by you out the door. Barbara has been watching Jeanette when we're gone. We both still have to work, as you kept mentioning the other day-"

"Oh you're on to that again?" he closed his eyes.

"I don't want to fight with you," she reassured him as calmly as possible. "I just think maybe you should change up your schedule a little bit."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean just let me know when you would like to come by and you are free to come and see her. I don't even have to be here."

He began to pace. "But I thought that having a schedule would provide more stability for her."

"Maybe...but she also might want to see her father more than once each day and then when she's in the middle of a crying fit."

He halted. "Is she even really cognizant of me right now? I mean does she really know who I am?"

"I can't believe you just said that!"

"She's an infant, Beverly. If I sent Riker to look in on her, would she really be able to tell the difference?" _After all, Riker does love babies..._

She sighed and walked away, picking up an empty milk bottle from the table. She tossed it into the recycler. "Although you may not believe this, Jean-Luc, she _does_ know who you are. You are supposed to be bonding with each other at this stage. It's important for her to have you around."

"But not at this moment," he clarified reminding her with irritating exactness about what she had just said. "Because now is not a good time for me to be here."

She stared at him for a tense few moments before backing out of the room slowly. "I'll be back in 20 minutes," she said with exaggerated calm. "Make yourself at home..."

* * *

Beverly had been right; Jeanette was quiet that afternoon and had settled into him when he picked her up from her crib, which for the time being, had been moved out of Beverly's room. Instead of crying, she seemed intent on developing the little muscles in her neck and repeatedly gave him little head butts against his shoulder until he shifted her in his arms. She was so small that he had the persistent fear that she would either slip through his arms, or he would somehow drop her. Beverly had shown him how to support her head, which had calmed his nerves somewhat, but he was still hyper-aware of her small size.

At several points, as he looked down at her, her eyes focused on his—or at least it seemed that they did, and he realized that her eyes were a phenomenal shade of green. Not so much hazel like his own, but a brighter green, possessing the same vibrancy of her mother's eyes.

"You seem very wise to me," he murmured, brushing a finger against her soft cheek. She stared up at him, as though he was mesmerizing her. "Don't you worry," he said softly. "You've inherited your mother's nose. But I have to note…you have very little hair. Never fear... unlike mine, your condition will improve," he assured her quietly. Gradually the baby's eyes closed, reluctantly so. When he was certain that Jeanette was asleep, he carefully placed her back in her crib, and turned to look at her once more before leaving the room.

* * *

He stayed deliberately longer, just so that he could speak with Beverly, and try to sort out these scheduling issues, but made the miscalculation of walking back out into the living room just as she exited the bathroom wearing a towel. She hadn't mentioned she was going to be taking a shower; he would have remembered that.

She looked surprised to find him still there, although only slightly embarrassed, given her attire.

"Oh. Sorry," he said quickly. Unable to turn around quickly enough, he shut his eyes tightly and then turned to the right, holding his body tightly to allow her room to pass by.

"No problem," she said from behind him, with a hint of amusement in her voice. "I always take a shower after a long shift, and I didn't expect you to still be here, Jean-Luc. Just hold on, and I'll be right back."

A few minutes later she emerged from her bedroom completely clothed in her two-tone uniform. Her hair was still wet, making it an exotic and darker auburn than he had seen. It also occurred to him that it had been quite some time since he had seen her hair under real sunlight, which made him consider just how wonderful that might be. She was watching him curiously now. He pressed his lips together, aware that he was still not focusing on appropriate subjects, and hoped that she had not noticed. He looked down at his boots self-consciously.

"Well," she said, sounding rather refreshed. "You still want to talk after I left things like that?"

"Hmm?" _She's trying to talk to you, Jean-Luc, now focus on the conversation._

"I was a little harsh earlier…I'm sorry, Jean-Luc. I know you're trying to get to know the baby in your own way. I shouldn't have expected you to simply fall into it."

He stared back at her, the image of her in a towel now emblazoned on his consciousness forever more. _Those legs._ "It's uh…it's alright," he mumbled. "I'm sorry to have overstayed my welcome this afternoon. I should have known that you—he nodded awkwardly toward the bathroom.

She laughed and crossed her arms over her chest. "Jean-Luc are you still worrying about seeing me in a towel? Well, don't. I'm a doctor and not the least bit shy when it comes to issues of anatomy."

 _Honestly, does she think saying something like that actually helps me to concentrate?_

She watched as his expression turn even more complex. "Why do you have that look on your face?"

"What look?"

She shrugged. "Never mind. Besides, I'm sure there wasn't much for you to see in that brief moment."

He shifted his feet, politely focusing his gaze on her face.

"So…" she was still watching him patiently. Apparently it had been a good shower, because her mood had improved significantly since before his visit with Jeanette.

"So," he responded taking her cue. "I've decided that I will do as you say and come to see Jeanette more often for less ... predictable visits."

She smiled pleasantly. "And I will be more sensitive to your need to have a schedule."

"Thank you," he said with a gracious nod.

"Well," she conceded softly. "You are a very busy man."

"And you are a very busy woman," he countered with a lift of his eyebrow.

"But we'll manage to work things out."

He nodded amiably. "Quite right…for the baby."

She tilted her head slightly and smiled at him again. "Right." Without warning, she moved closer to him and put a hand on his upper arm. "Jean-Luc…I have to ask you something."

He breathed in and she was close enough now that he smelled a bit of lavender. He blinked, attempting not to appear mildly intoxicated by the scent of her hair.

"Yes?" he managed.

"You look very tired. Are you having trouble sleeping?"

He laughed abruptly and took a slight step backward. She frowned, apparently not happy with this reaction.

"Well," he said, attempting to re-engage her with a smile. "The baby has been keeping me awake."

She nodded slightly, but then moved in again, this time taking hold of his hand. "Yes, she has been up crying often most nights this week…but there's something else isn't there?" She studied him perceptively, and he was too close to look away and have it be at all helpful to his current predicament.

"Why are you holding my hand?" he murmured, looking away from her eyes and down at her shoulder.

She squeezed his hand and his heart seemed to give an extra thump. "Because I care about you…now have the nightmares come back?"

He closed his eyes, now highly uncomfortable. _They never left._ "No," he lied, opening his eyes.

She bit her bottom lip and then her face took on an outraged expression. "You're lying to me, aren't you?"

He twisted his hand out of her grasp and stepped away. He ran a hand over his head before looking back at her. "I've only had two this week, Beverly and they were manageable."

"Manageable? What the hell does that mean?"

"It means exactly what I said. I am handling the dreams. And after all they _are_ only dreams," he reminded her.

"The dreams about your abduction by the Borg are an important aspect of your physical and emotional recovery process, Jean-Luc. We've talked about this. If we can monitor your physiological responses we may be able to sort out some of the nerve pain that continues to be a problem for you."

He regarded her stone-faced.

"Have you even bothered to mention this to Troi? Because if you don't I _will_."

He crossed his arms over his chest angrily. "Whatever happened to doctor patient confidentiality?"

She laughed, but sounded genuinely hurt. "Doctor…patient…Jean-Luc, I am your _friend_."

"Then why are you talking to me as though I am in your sickbay?" he demanded.

"You have to be the most stubborn man I have ever—"

He put a cautionary finger to his lips. "We're going to wake the baby at this rate. Now I have business on the bridge. So if you'll excuse me."

"You can use the baby as an excuse only for so long, Jean-Luc. We're not done discussing this," Beverly called after him.

He turned around as he reached door. "I will talk to Troi about my sleeping patterns. But I am putting the Borg behind me, Beverly, and I don't wish to be reminded of my _abduction_ as you put it, every time I see you. I'm asking you as a friend."

* * *

 **Star Base 773**

"Pots...the cover story the Boss gave me is too elaborate. There is no way these people will fall for it, and I can barely remember the details, myself," said M into the monitor. "I haven't even met this Picard guy yet, and I'm already sweating thinking about fooling him. It's one thing pretending to be Jack Crusher, but the mirror universe story...it's too over the top, man."

"If you value your life, M, you'll do every thing you can to make these people believe you're Jack Crusher. And don't let the Boss think you can't manage the job." Pots' image wavered slightly over subspace. "I'm beginning to think there's more at stake here than just a big payday for everyone involved."

"Huh? Why?"

"Let's just say, the Boss isn't who I thought he was," said Pots. "And I still don't have a clue who he is..."

"Well...we really didn't need to know. It's never been a problem before with anonymous clients."

"This is different, M."

"Do me a favor-you want me to stay in character, call me Jack, will you? You think this is easy, idiot? Anyway, why is it different?"

"Whoever this guy is...he's playing for keeps. I don't like being expendable, _Jack,_ so pull out all the stops and just get this done."

"Yeah okay, thanks partner."

* * *

"I disagree…strongly Jeffrey," said Alynna Nechayev. "She needs to be the first to know."

Admiral Naguchi made a dissatisfied face. "Our orders were to tell Picard first, for security reasons. "Jack Crusher's widow doesn't need the shock of hearing it from you, Alynna. Your lack of bedside manner is nothing less than legendary."

"Let me have my way with this, Jeffrey. In every other way, I have been steamrolled by this process and you know it. If it was up to me, we wouldn't just be conceding that this man is Jack Crusher anymore than—."

"But he _is_ Jack Crusher," said Naguchi. "Every scientific test has confirmed it, Admiral."

"Then why are we sending along an investigator, if everyone at Command is so certain? Something is not bloody right here, Naguchi, and I will find it out."

"What's not right?" he demanded of his colleague, now growing irate.

"I saw his dead body with my own eyes, all those years ago, when trust me, my eyes were much sharper. And now I am expected to simply admit that Jack's here…that he never died. Tell me, what _isn't_ _wrong_ about that?"


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 7**

* * *

 **A Few Days Later...**

"How is she doing?" Troi asked, looking down at the sleeping baby.

"She's wonderful," Beverly said with a smile, tucking a blanket around Jeanette's shoulders. "Very sweet, but with more than a hint of an attitude as you might expect..."

" _Really_?" Deanna said with mock surprise.

"Ha. And she's also a light sleeper, as the captain has been learning this week."

Deanna looked at her friend. "You were able to work out a schedule of some sort?"

Beverly sighed and glanced away. "Yes, he now comes to visit her almost like clockwork. Once during the day, usually when I'm not here, and then once or twice during the night, depending on when she's awake." Satisfied that Jeanette had settled down, she stepped away from the baby's crib and out into the living area, as Troi trailed along behind her.

"He has a monitor in his quarters that tells him when she's awake, but I've tried to tell him he doesn't have to leap out of bed every time. He doesn't get to witness most of crying like I do, but he does show up and sits with her until she falls asleep. Forever punctual...anyway, we talked about it, and he's going to try and be a little more spontaneous with his visits," she said with a small shake of her head. _And that conversation ended so well..._

"Do you feel that he is engaging with the baby in the way you would expect?"

"Yes...everything is fine," she said distractedly, and turned from the replicator. "Coffee? Hot chocolate? Never mind, I can't believe I'm giving you a choice."

"Hot chocolate please," Deanna laughed, as she settled down on the couch, still watching Beverly across the room. "Beverly," she ventured as her friend walked over handing her the cup of cocoa.

Beverly sat down across from Deanna. "Hmm?" she asked taking a sip of her coffee.

"Is everything really fine? This is a huge transition for you."

Beverly sighed. "It's complicated," she admitted.

"I'm listening."

"Jean-Luc and I have never been in a relationship beyond friendship, Deanna. It makes the sudden appearance of Jeanette bring up many issues for us both. But we're not talking about those issues. The arrangement now is just odd."

Deanna smiled and put her cup down. "Beverly, I shouldn't have to tell you how many ways there are to have and raise a child. Many people in fact have to raise a child after a relationship has run its course or..."

"That's just it, Deanna, I have never _been_ in a relationship with Jean-Luc. Nothing has ever begun or ended for us, and now I feel as though I am under some kind of unseen pressure to decide either way, and I am not sure I want to _have_ to decide."

"Do you feel as though it is even an option for either of you? Do either of you want to be in a relationship that involves more than friendship?"

"I don't know. Deanna...he was difficult to connect with _before_ the Borg took him and... Now, he's, well he's not exactly emotionally available."

"You know as well as I do, that he's still in the early stages of his emotional recovery," said Troi.

"I do know that." She put her hand to her chest. "And I want to be patient with him. But if I can't get him to talk to me about something as simple as his difficulty sleeping, then how am I going to convince him to talk to me about any of this?."

Deanna smiled. "To be fair Beverly, his self reliance is a substantial part of his personality, and given his recent experiences, it is a very good sign that it's still present."

"But it's also what makes him incredibly infuriating and stubborn," Beverly protested. "At least to me..."

"Have you considered that he may not want to complain to you?"

"Well, I think that as his physician-"

"Perhaps he is having trouble navigating the line between friendship and the professional," Troi suggested. "And perhaps, you understand this dilemma as well," she added gently.

Beverly shrugged.

"I happen to know that Captain Picard has more respect for you than for anyone else on this ship. And unlike the rest of us, you already had his respect when we started this voyage," said Deanna.

"He told you that?"

"Not in so many words... but empath or no, there are some things that don't need to be said out loud," Troi said. "I think you perhaps do not see the similarities you share with the captain, Beverly. He has been through great trauma in his life, but then so have you. You lost both of your parents at an early age. You lost your husband...and you rarely talk about these events even with me. He views and admires you as an incredibly strong individual-which you are. Now, my guess is that the captain would prefer not to burden you with issues he considers personally troubling, as he tends to minimize the importance of such things in the first place. "

Beverly fell silent. She hadn't thought of it that way before, but perhaps she and Jean-Luc were similar in some important ways she'd overlooked. "You may be right. But...it's not just that. You mentioned earlier about the balance between our personal and professional lives..."

"Go ahead." Deanna could tell she was thinking about the past.

Beverly cradled the cup in her hands. She took a deep breath. "Once a long time ago, there were things that Jean-Luc said and the way he looked at me, when I was with Jack. I could tell...I could tell there was something between us, because I felt it too. A tension, a definite attraction."

"The attraction was mutual," Deanna said carefully.

"Yes. But never acknowledged by either of us. We simply couldn't. And I didn't want to, because of course I loved Jack very much. But there was that something..."

"And you think that something is no longer present?"

Beverly stared into her coffee mug, aware that it was growing lukewarm. She looked up to meet Deanna's eyes. "For many years I believed it went away when Jack died, but now I know that during that decade, I just shoved it deeper down, denied it, which was not impossible to do when we lived apart. I did something similar when I was at Starfleet Medical for a year. But no...it's still there. It has just changed, hopefully evolved now we are serving together. Perhaps we have learned to channel that old feeling into something new."

"Perhaps," said Troi, leaning forward lacing her fingers over her knee. "Or perhaps you have both become complacent and allowed yourselves to settle for something neither of you truly want, simply because it is the more comfortable alternative."

* * *

 **A few Hours later...**

Riker stepped quickly into the room, sitting down next to Troi and across from the captain.

"Commander, before you joined us, I took the liberty of having Counselor Troi listen to the voices from the transmission," said Picard.

Riker turned to Deanna with interest. "What did you think?"

Troi hesitated, as though searching for the appropriate words. "The men in that transmission exhibited very extreme emotions. They are very selfish, and guarded with one another. I don't believe they like each other at all...although there may be some semblance of respect there. I sense that violence is normal for them."

"They mentioned someone named Troi...what was your impression of that?"

Troi shifted. "I was...disturbed, to say the least," she admitted. "I still am. The way they talked about her-I felt their hatred of her clearly. And yet, again there is a respect of some kind-clearly she is viewed as a violent and treacherous person, and again, they view that as strength. And the way they referred so callously to each other, and this "Doctor" person...well, it's very hard for me not to think about Beverly. But there was something different in their view of this Doctor person. They fear her. Greatly."

Picard leaned forward on his elbows. "Doctor Crusher's name wasn't mentioned specifically," he said, trying to sound less concerned than he really was. In fact, he had no idea what to think. The other names: Picard, Number One...Troi. It was all too familiar to ignore. At the same time, it was utterly foreign. Deep down he still didn't believe the transmission to be real. But then what was it? "Anyway, Counselor, you talk of these people a though they are real. It goes without saying that Commander Riker and I are extremely skeptical of this recording, given that neither one of us has ever uttered the words heard in that transmission."

Troi was watching him closely. "And I share your skepticism, Captain. But it does not shake my perception of the raw emotions I sensed in that transmission."

Picard sat back in his chair and sighed as his colleagues fell silent. A general sense of uncertainty filled the room.

"Ah. Mr. Data," Picard looked up, as the conference room doors opened and the lithe figure entered almost silently.

"What have you got for us, Data?" Riker asked, with some trepidation. He wanted to know more, and yet he didn't.

The android sat down with perfect posture, his hands clasped in front of him. "As you requested sirs, I researched the term 'Empire' in the Federation archives. After reviewing the first 33 million references to the term, I narrowed it down substantially, eliminating the least relevant references, which left me with 648,000 references to the term. Then..."

"Data," said Picard slowly. "Let's skip over the most minute details, shall we?"

Data was used to these kinds of interruptions, and paused only briefly. "It is the context of the conversation between two individuals who at first listen one would reasonably expect to be Commander Riker and yourself, which led me to this, Captain." Data casually flipped the casing of his fingertip back without warning, and in the next moment, a projection floated over the table in front of them. It was a three dimensional sphere, resembling without question, the planet Earth. Hideously, the sphere was impaled by a sword in its center. At the hilt of the sword was a strange gold sash.

Troi was the first to speak. "What is it?"

"It is a graphic used in a short-lived course taught by an Academy professor, named Jonathan Kyle. The course was entitled 'Amplification of Transporter Technology and Multi-Universe Travel'".

Riker's brow crinkled. "Never heard of the professor or the course."

"Perhaps that is because Professor Kyle was teaching at Starfleet Academy before any of us in this room were born," said Data.

"But not for long," said Picard.

"Sir?"

"He wasn't teaching the course for long...Data you said it was short-lived."

"Ah yes," said Data, picking up where he left off. "Professor Kyle's lectures on the subject of transport amplification were canceled after just one semester, in 2283. The information he conveyed to his students along with all of the course content became classified, and no longer available to anyone outside of Starfleet Command."

"And it's still classified?" asked Troi.

"Yes."

"Well, no wonder we've never heard of him," Riker suggested.

Picard had been deep in thought and looked up at Data. "There was a Jonathan Kyle who served on board the original _Enterprise_ , Data. I know my history enough to know there was a transporter chief of that name, but the rest of the details-if there are any- are muddy for me. Is this the same man?"

"Yes, sir. The same Jonathan Kyle served on board the _Enterprise 1701_ between 2264 and 2268 as an engineer and transporter chief, after which he was transferred to various ships, remaining at the rank of Lieutenant. Notably after his discharge from the Academy as an instructor in 2283, he was promoted to the rank of full Commander and served aboard the _USS Reliant_ as communications officer."

"He was _discharged_ from teaching that course at the Academy? Sounds like Command promoting him after twenty years was in exchange for him keeping quiet about whatever he had been teaching," said Riker.

"I still don't understand the significance of this...strange symbol," Troi said, standing up and leaning closer to the hologram. "Is this meant to be the Earth? It looks quite similar."

Picard lifted his chin and nodded toward the slowly spinning globe. "The adventures of Captain Kirk and his crew are legendary. As a child I remember hearing one tale of James Kirk encountering a separate universe of some kind, in which there was a separate Starfleet, a separate Earth..."

"And a separate Kirk?" Riker asked with a pointed look at Picard.

Picard frowned. "But it was never properly recorded in the history texts, and as far as I know, this event, if it actually occurred, never became official Starfleet record."

"That is correct, Captain," said Data. "I was unsuccessful obtaining clearance to view anything on the subject matter of Professor Kyle's course materials. I only obtained this image through what may best be described as a... computer glitch."

"It's a very real likelihood that Kyle, a non-command officer was reporting on events that occurred while he was transporter chief on board the Enterprise, and Starfleet Command was very unhappy about this. It is also possible," continued Picard, "That he himself had an experience on board the Enterprise that compelled him to teach the subject. It's not unusual for transporter chiefs to witness all kinds of odd occurrences, with little or no follow-up explanation, given the nature of that position. Kyle may have simply believed he witnessed something quite different than what actually occurred, and this stayed with him for many years. The very title of the course suggests that he believed in multiple universes, and that amplifying transporter technology would assist in travel to these universes."

"Data, you still haven't explained how your search of the term 'Empire' brought you to this symbol," said Riker.

Data blinked quickly and the projection flickered and became larger. The lines of the holo image also grew more precise, and words could now be seen on the sash draped over the hilt of the sword.

Troi leaned in close again to read the words aloud. "Terran Empire."

* * *

"Data you have the bridge."

Picard stepped into the turbo lift and turned around to find he had company. He hadn't noticed until that Riker had followed behind him. Of course, now he recalled he'd noted on the crew rotation that he and Riker were on similar shift schedules this week. "Deck 8," said Picard. He yawned, and noticed Riker smile slightly and then look up at the ceiling. "Halt," he said a moment later, and the lift stopped. He turned and looked at Riker. "Does my extreme fatigue amuse you, Mr. Riker?"

"No sir…in fact, well I am concerned about you, sir."

Picard watched his first officer skeptically. "Why?"

Riker rubbed his beard and leaned back against the wall. "Captain you've been through the unimaginable. It would be surprising if you were suffering no ill effects just a few months after returning to us."

"And you, Commander?" Picard asked tightly. "Are you suffering any ill effects?"

Will rubbed the back of his neck, trying to release some of the tension. "Yes, of course I am, sir," he admitted. "In fact…I've been having problems sleeping myself. I guess I just assumed…I mean, I—"

Picard put up a hand. "It's alright. Yes, you assumed correctly, Commander. I do continue to have difficulty sleeping…at times. But nothing I cannot handle. I suppose we are all still rebounding from that...experience." He cleared his throat. "I do appreciate your concern. Resume," he told the lift after another moment.

Riker looked at him questioningly. The captain seemed sincere enough, but he decided not to push his luck anymore about the Borg issue. It made him uncomfortable anyway, just to bring it up. "Have you considered our next steps after Data's briefing, Captain?"

Picard nodded. "Admiral Naguchi has ordered us to meet with him tomorrow morning at 0800. I fully intend to raise the issues Data researched. There is far too much mystery clouding our visit to this star base."

"Agreed, sir...do you think there's a possibility of a Riker and Picard in another universe? Given the things we've experienced, sir, it doesn't seem too much of a stretch."

"Of course, it is a possibility, Number One. However, Kyle could also be responsible for spreading a tall tale that had no basis in truth, but one people wanted to believe. If Starfleet Command knew he was disseminating false information about what occurred on the original Enterprise, they would have shut his course down for that reason alone."

"It doesn't change the fact that our voices are on that transmission, sir."

Picard shook his head vehemently. "No, Number One. The only _fact_ is that we've now heard voices which resemble our own. You heard Data...these could easily have been fabricated. Until Starfleet Command reveals just why they ordered us to report to this station, I will remain unconvinced that this transmission is anything but a bizarre distraction. Meanwhile our people and ships are still missing in action."

Riker nodded. "The whole situation is confusing sir. But I have to admit I needed a few days of quiet." He smiled. "It doesn't happen too often in our line of work."

Picard raised an eyebrow. "How very true, Commander." The doors opened with a swish and Picard stepped out.

Against his better judgment, Riker called after him. "Sir, if you don't mind me asking…how is the little one?"

To his surprise, Picard broke into a wide smile, and the transformation was an immediate and total reversal from the moment before. "She's wonderful," the captain admitted with a light chuckle. "Truly. I will see you in a few hours," he called back over his shoulder.

"Wow," said Will as the doors shut.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 8**

* * *

Captain Phillipa Louvois was not by nature a very patient person. However, she had trained herself to be patient; training which was coming in handy on her current assignment.

"You still haven't explained, Jack, how this transponder you have in your head actually works," said Louvois.

"I already told you, Phil—"

"And I _told_ you not to call me Phil," she snapped, looking up from what she had been typing into her data pad. She leaned forward intensely. "Listen, _Commander_ , you arrived out of the void of space in an alien shuttle craft claiming to have escaped a parallel universe, after thirteen years of everyone thinking you were dead…and now you want us to believe that whatever you have implanted in your brain—"

"Not my brain, actually it's right behind my eye," Jack corrected her, tapping his temple on the right side of his head.

Captain Louvois looked at him with a barely tolerant expression. "Mr. Crusher," she said slowly. "You expect, without any further explanation that the _Enterprise_ proceed to the coordinates you say within the next twenty-six hours, based on what your transponder is telling you?"

"Well…yeah."

"And what exactly is it telling you, Jack?"

He sighed. "Look, when the Terrans implanted this thing in my head I wasn't exactly awake. But basically, I receive a signal that somehow translates into coordinates. This allows me to know roughly where my old ship is."

"I thought you were a prisoner. You had a ship?"

"Well…I was a prisoner on a ship."

"What kind of ship?"

"A ship that collects other ships."

She tapped something into her document. "And what did this ship look like?"

He shrugged. "Like a…disc, or something."

She looked up sharply. "A disc…that's it?"

"Look I only saw the outside of it a handful of times."

She put down her stylus. "Are you telling me that in thirteen years you never left the confines of the ship you were imprisoned on?"

"At least not while I was conscious. I guess I don't really remember," he admitted with another shrug.

"Why imprison you, if they believed you to be the Jack Crusher of that world?"

"Put simply," said Jack, "they found me out. I guess I just didn't fit in," he said.

"I see. And what will happen if we don't go to these coordinates you've got in your head, within the amount of time you've stated?"

"Then you won't find your ships," he said simply.

Her eyes narrowed. "You're a member of Starfleet, Jack. They're your ships too. Are you even concerned?"

"Look, Captain, is this how we're going to carry on? It's obvious you don't trust me. Admiral Naguchi believes me, so why don't you?"

Louvois pursed her lips. "How did you know to point us to the communication we intercepted?"

"You mean the..."

She nodded, waiting expectantly.

"Well," he said. "I had no idea those voices would be at those coordinates. To tell you the truth it was a complete surprise."

"So…you have never met anyone resembling Captain Picard or a Commander Riker in this alternate universe?"

"Commander who?"

"Riker. He's tall with a beard. At least in _our_ universe," she added sarcastically.

Jack's face appeared convincingly blank.

"Nope, no Riker."

"And Captain Picard?"

Jack brightened. "What about him? Can't wait to see my old buddy," he smiled.

Louvois tapped her stylus on the tabletop. "Once again...did you meet him in this alternate universe?"

He shrugged. "Yes."

Her eyes narrowed. "That's all? Just...yes?"

Jack sighed. "I guess...Jean-Luc's just the same old Jean-Luc in any universe."

"So you didn't expect to hear those two voices?"

Jack rolled his eyes up at the ceiling. "No! Like I said…complete surprise. I just knew that my old ship was in the vicinity, based on what this was telling me," he said, tapping the side of his head.

"Even though your old ship exists in a parallel universe?"

"Yes," he said.

"I still have questions," she said pointedly.

His smile faded. "Later. Listen, Captain. I don't know if you have a family, or friends—I'll take a leap and say you do. I've been away from _mine_ for thirteen years, and tomorrow morning they're going to learn for the first time that I'm not _dead_." He leaned in earnestly. "So I would really appreciate the opportunity to focus on getting ready to go and see my wife and kid…okay?" He rubbed the side of his head deliberately and watched her expression change rather quickly.

Louvois smiled genuinely, seeming to forget all of her previous irritation. In fact she felt convinced of his sincerity. This man could certainly be trusted. "Of course, Jack. How could I have been so rude? Please... prepare to meet your family again. I'll see you tomorrow."

 _Hot damn, this implant really does work._ Jack gave a little salute before exiting the room. "Aye aye, Captain."

* * *

 _A drip of something wet was falling onto his cheek and rolling down. He couldn't close his eyes, and he couldn't scream anymore, but he could stare at the drip as it traveled from the black grate of a ceiling above his head and dropped onto his face. It wasn't cold, wasn't hot, just tepid. Disgusting, really, if he'd_ _had the sensibilities left to be offended by such things. But he didn't. Perhaps if he continued to stare at the drip of condensation he would succeed in diverting its path merely with his mind. But he didn't have time, because then the stomping metallic feet with their odd hydraulic spin were marching over the floor toward him._

 _Cold fingers clothed in metal wire tightened his restraints and he gagged at the anticipation of yet another tube down his throat. The red laser sight fixed on his cheek and then moved lower to his bicep. This he knew meant a new invasive tool was to be forced into muscle and nerve, and perhaps even bone, if the purpose of the implant required it. Inside his mind he said "no". He was sure they could hear him speak that way now. They had invaded his mind, so they would hear him. He would tell them no as many times as he was able to, which he now believed would be for infinity. He would always tell them no. He would always deny them his consent. But that would not stop them he knew._

 _Then he heard the crying for the first time. He struggled to turn his head and saw the Borg drone carrying a small bundle. What was it? "What is it?" He asked. "What is it?" But the drone did not answer. Instead it held out its arms and showed him. The baby cried again, and he saw that she did not recognize him._

* * *

When he awoke his voice had returned, and he screamed as he sat up in bed. He rolled out of bed onto the floor, and saw that the monitor for Jeanette was off. He struggled to turn it on, and ended up throwing it against the wall with a shout of frustration. Throwing his bathrobe on, he rushed out of his quarters. He raced down the hall, his thoughts racing furiously. When he reached Beverly's door, he tapped the entry code in quickly, and the door hissed open. He stumbled inside, clumsily knocking over a vase of flowers onto the floor. The carpet muffled the sound somewhat, and he cursed himself, picking it up with shaking hands.

"Jean-Luc, what are you doing here, what's wrong?" Beverly stood outside of her bedroom door. She wrapped her robe around herself anxiously.

"I need to see Jeanette," he said still breathing heavily. _You're not dreaming anymore, Picard. Get it together._ Sweat covered his body and he was shaking now where his exposed skin met the chilly air. "I'm sorry, Beverly," he said trying to calm down. "I don't mean to frighten you. But I need to see that she is alright."

Beverly finally approached and reached out to hold his face in her hands. "Alright, Jean-Luc. But you need to calm yourself down…please. Take some deep breaths through your nose."

He lowered his head and complied for a moment, shutting his eyes-but then the images from the Borg ship returned and he tried to look past Beverly into her bedroom.

She took his hand. "You had a bad dream, didn't you?"

He simply nodded, unable to lie to her at this point. She hugged him and whispered in his ear that it was going to be alright.

"Sir?"

Beverly waved at Wesley who had emerged from his room. "It's alright Wes, you can go back to bed." Her son retreated wide-eyed back into his room.

Turning back to Jean-Luc, she guided him into her room and he looked down into the crib, continuing to breathe through his nose like she had instructed him. He looked down at Jeanette and she shifted in her sleep. His child was fine. She was safe.

He covered his mouth with his palm, unable to prevent a brief sob from escaping. Beverly kissed him on the side of his face and led him to the rocking chair which rested against the wall. "Here, you sit down, and you can hold her for a few minutes. She put a hand to her own heart which was beating very fast. "Just sit here," she said again. "Maybe that will make us both feel better," she said and turned around to pick up the baby.

To his relief Jeanette didn't wake up, but instead nestled into his chest, and he leaned back and held her close to him. It was the first time he had felt her that close to his own skin. "She's a part of me," he whispered to himself, as Beverly left the room quietly.

* * *

He must have fallen asleep, because when he awoke, Beverly was pulling Jeanette gently from his arms and placing her back in the crib. He didn't feel cold anymore, just warm and comfortable. He was still very sleepy and was dimly afraid that Beverly would tell him to get up out of the chair. But she didn't. Instead, she shut her door and then leaned down over him. She moved her hands over his chest underneath his robe and kissed him passionately on the mouth. He reached up to touch the softness of her neck as she continued to touch him gently but assertively. She moved in closer, giving him access to her body, and so he pulled her toward him, returning her kiss deeply. He embraced her tighter, now holding her so close that he could feel the weight of her breasts against his skin, just underneath her thin nightgown. His hand moved to graze her inner thigh, but when they broke their kiss briefly, he looked up into her eyes. "What's happening?" he whispered.

"I don't know," she murmured in the darkness. "It's okay," she said breathing quickly.

"We should wait," he said, unsure where this sentiment was coming from.

Beverly looked at him, and even in the dark he could see the shock of rejection in her expression. Already he regretted his words, as she nodded and tugged her nightgown back down. He reluctantly dropped his hands from her waist.

"Yes," she said breathlessly, bringing her hand up to her forehead. "Of course, you're right," she said in a louder voice, backing away from him slowly. Her lips were full and beautiful even in the low light of her room, and he silently cursed his hesitation.

But she didn't seem disappointed. No, she seemed relieved in fact. At the time he was still high from the experience of it all. But later on, he would remember how her face looked that night, and it would actually cause him physical pain.

She sat down on the edge of bed and put her bathrobe on, turning away from him.

He stood up awkwardly. "I'm sorry, Beverly. Really I am."

She turned back to him, and he thought he could see her eyes shining with the beginnings of tears. "Don't be….I know it's late, but can I—can I get you some tea?" she asked.

"No…no thank you," he said. "But we'll talk tomorrow?"

He heard a faint sniffle. "Of course, Jean-Luc. Tomorrow when you're done with your meeting. We'll talk then," she said and forced a soft laugh.

"Yes," he agreed and stayed a moment longer, wishing that she would turn around, but she didn't.

* * *

 **The next morning...**

"Beverly, do you have a few minutes? I need to talk with you about Ensign Nguyen." Troi walked in to Crusher's office, to find the doctor sat staring down at her hands in her lap. She halted. "What's wrong?"

When Beverly looked up, Deanna could see she was not entirely upset, as Troi had initially suspected. But she looked slightly embarrassed. _She thinks I just read her mind. Judging by the look on her face, I'm glad I didn't._

Beverly looked up at the ceiling of her office, not sure how much she wanted to say about what had happened the night before. "Nothing is wrong, I was just thinking," she said softly.

"Oh, alright, I didn't intend to interrupt you. It's just that we had discussed Ensign Nguyen's emotional recovery after Wolf 359, and I'm still concerned that this young woman-"

"Can it wait until this afternoon?" Beverly got up distractedly, and put her lab coat on. "I've got to check on a patient, and then-"

There was a slow but sharp knock at the door, and both women turned in surprise. There in the doorway stood Vice Admiral Nechayev. Beverly hadn't even known that Alynna Nechayev would be at star base 773, as she was usually posted at Headquarters on Earth. The second thing that ran through Beverly's mind was that something had happened to Jean-Luc. "Admiral," she said with a slightly nervous smile. "What can we do for you?"

Nechayev stood very still in her perfectly fitted uniform. "Doctor Crusher, Counselor Troi. Of course, I am pleased to see you both. I apologize for the interruption, but I assure you it is quite necessary."

"Well I was just heading out to check on a patient," Beverly said. "But it can wait, if you need me for some reason."

"Very good, thank you," said Nechayev shortly. She turned to Deanna. "Counselor, if you would please excuse us."

Deanna nodded, and tried not to show Beverly the immense concern she suddenly felt upon sensing Nechayev's intentions. The admiral intended to tell Beverly something of incredible importance, and despite the vague feeling that the news was generally positive, Nechayev did not want to tell Beverly; and yet the admiral believed it her duty to do so. Deanna nodded. "Of course."

Nechayev smiled in a very restrained yet appreciative way. "Please stay close to sickbay, Counselor. We may require your assistance."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 9**

* * *

Picard, Riker and Data materialized in one of the star base transporter rooms and walked out into a large plaza area. They were scheduled to meet Admiral Naguchi at 0800 hours, and apparently were just shy of the meet-up time.

"Not exactly jumping with activity, is it?" Riker said, looking around at the deserted public area. Only a few medical personnel walked quickly through and on to their respective destinations.

"This is a somewhat remote base," Picard murmured. "According to the records, it's staffed by no more than a hundred officers. Primarily medical, from what I recall."

Will sighed and shrugged his tense shoulders. He was beginning to feel anxious, and didn't like being kept in suspense. "We're early," he observed.

Picard shot his first officer a look, but remained silent. He ignored Riker's nerves, and tried to focus only on the questions he would ask Naguchi: the fate of the missing ships, the strange transmission...and not what had happened the night before with Beverly. Still, his focus wavered more than once.

Moments later, all three officers turned their heads as a contingent of two officers appeared from a doorway and now approached. Picard immediately stiffened, feeling his brain go on the alert. He recognized Naguchi only from their brief conversation the day before. But the female officer…yes he knew her. And he was hardly pleased to see her again. She'd changed her hairstyle since last he'd seen her, and it was quite a bit longer, unusual for her hard-nosed reputation. As attractive as she still was, he had an immediate and sinking feeling that his life was about to change, and not in a positive way.

Admiral Naguchi halted in front of the _Enterprise_ officers and gave a slight nod. "Captain Picard, Commander Riker, Lt. Commander Data… I believe you already know Captain Phillipa Louvois."

Will Riker groaned inwardly. Seeing Captain Louvois again, the former Judge Advocate General at Data's hearing brought back a certain sense of guilt. Louvois had presided over a series of hearings in which the subject of Data's sentience and right to choose had been the central concern. Riker, to his dismay, had been tasked with arguing that Data was merely a combination of mechanical parts, while the captain had been opposing counsel, and had argued that Data was a sentient being. Eventually Louvois had decided that Data had the right to choose his fate—whether or not he would fall into scientist Bruce Maddox's hands, who had openly stated his desire to dismantle the android.

For Picard, who had a checkered history with Louvois, the feelings were more complicated. Her recent conduct at Data's hearing had been measured and fair, he had to admit. However, in the more distant past, she had prosecuted him at his court martial for the _Stargazer,_ nearly driving him out of Starfleet, although he knew that was hardly her intention. Before the court martial, they'd been colleagues and had established a friendship which he knew she had wanted to be more. Her hopes of pursuing some kind of romance with him had gone out the window when she had been named prosecutor in the inquiry concerning the loss of his ship. As far as Picard was concerned, they had shared something of a harmless flirtation in the past, but that was to be the extent of it.

"Captain," Picard nodded to her curtly. "I wasn't aware that such a remote star base would have need for a prosecutor."

Louvois gave him a sly smile. "Captain, I can assure you that I possess skills beyond the ability to court martial starship captains."

"One can only hope," he replied dryly.

"This is a primarily medical facility," Naguchi said, leading them away down a well-lit corridor. "They don't often see regular Starfleet except under emergency circumstances, so don't mind the stares. That said, this medical staff has seen its share of interesting things this last week, and it's doubtful they will be surprised at your presence."

"That does not change the fact that we still know nothing of why we have been ordered to this base, Admiral," Picard said tightly. Naguchi merely frowned but didn't reply, and then he slowed as they reached a tiny little room to their left.

"Captain, I'm going to have to ask you to wait in here while I brief your officers," said Naguchi.

Picard halted and looked into the small room, equipped only with a desk and a few chairs. He turned to look at Naguchi, and carefully kept the irritation from his voice. "Admiral this is highly irregular. Why am I not to be briefed along with my officers?"

His gaze flicked to Phillipa who looked strangely sympathetic to his confusion. There was something akin to pity in her glance, and it caused a slow anger to begin to burn in him. His heart fluttered with a surge of adrenaline. _What the hell is going on? Is this about the Borg?_

"Captain," said Naguchi giving him a hard look. "You will be briefed as well, in due time. For now, I will need you to obey my orders and wait in here."

Picard nodded. "Yes sir," he said simply, before stepping inside.

* * *

He waited for the footsteps of his colleagues to shuffle away before sitting down in one of the chairs. He glanced around what appeared to be some kind of interrogation room. His eyes narrowed staring up into a corner. Was he under surveillance? He sighed and leaned back in the uncomfortable chair trying to relax. He was very tired from the sporadic amounts of sleep recently, and sitting down in an empty room only reminded him of this problem.

Very soon his mind began to wander to thoughts of Beverly. Closing his eyes, he recalled the smooth touch and delicate scent of her skin and the passionately insistent pressure of her lips against his. He had wanted her of course, but it simply hadn't been the right time. He had been disoriented and still shaken from his dream. He'd wanted to be near Jeanette, and being able to touch the baby had given him such a feeling of calm and purpose that he had felt strong for the first time in so very long. Perhaps Beverly had somehow sensed this, and had reached out to him in that moment. He was so glad that she had, but he didn't want to move too quickly without talking things through. He smiled to himself. He hoped that there would be plenty of time for things to progress between them.

Eventually his thoughts of Beverly became a little too distracting and he became restless. "Time computer," he said. _"0930, sir."_ He had waited over an hour, growing more irritated by the moment and had long ago grown tired of sitting. Instead he got up and paced the tiny room back and forth, until the door eventually opened.

* * *

Alynna Nechayev unexpectedly walked in, and she looked less than happy to be there. In fact, she looked downright drained. "Admiral," he greeted her, a question in his tone.

She looked at him closely. "I haven't seen you since your return from those evil cyborgs...and you already look strong again." She gestured down at one of the bland colored chairs. "Jean-Luc...please sit down," she said. "Would you like some water?"

"No thank you. Are Commander Riker and Lieutenant Commander Data still being briefed?"

"No. They've beamed back to the Enterprise already." She walked to the wall replicator. "Water."

He slowly sat down. "I see," he said, feeling the quiet anger return. He crossed his arms over his chest. "And when am I to receive a briefing as to our current orders, sir?"

"Right now," she said sharply, slapping the glass of water down in front of him. "Jean-Luc, I'm here as your friend, not just your commanding officer."

He raised a quizzical eyebrow. He'd known Nechayev for years; certainly long enough to know he had just been given permission to speak freely. So he did. "What in the _hell_ is Phillipa Louvois doing here?"

"Captain Louvois is to accompany you and your crew on your latest mission," she said simply.

"Why?"

Nechayev folded her slim hands on the table in front of her. "She has been assigned to be the reintegration liaison for an officer who has been out of commission for some time."

"An officer who will be joining my crew? Why wasn't I informed of this?"

"You're being informed _now_ , Captain. My goodness you are a stubborn son of a bitch. I suppose we should all be even more thankful that it was you who was captured by the Borg and not someone with less...fortitude."

He looked down at the table and took a deep breath, but said nothing.

"Jean-Luc, have you ever heard of the Terran Empire?"

His mind immediately returned to the recording Data had played for he and Riker. "The voices that Admiral Naguchi attributed to Riker and I were speaking about some kind of empire...but we ran up against walls when we tried to learn more."

She nodded. "One hundred years ago this year, the _Enterprise_ commanded by James Kirk endured an ion storm while negotiating the rights to mine dilithium on a class M inhabited planet. From what I recall, you have had some experience with ion storms, have you not?"

He looked up sharply. "You know very well that the _Stargazer_ encountered an ion storm and was in fact nearly trapped the night Jack Crusher was killed. Why you would bring that up now, I can't-"

"An artificial ion storm, from what I recall," she said. "Generated by some kind of science station on Taltus III."

"Yes," he sighed.

"As I mentioned, the original _Enterprise_ encountered ion storm interference which caused some of the crew to be transported into a parallel universe."

He stared at her with rapt attention.

"It was a war-like version of the Federation, full of treachery and torture," she continued. "Commander Spock referred to it as a 'mirror universe'."

"Are we seeing some kind of recent overlap of that universe with our own?"

"I don't know," she said slowly. "But there are some who believe that to be the case. I for one am less likely than some of my colleagues to base an entire mission on the word of one man." He frowned and she smiled at his confusion. "Captain...when the _Enterprise_ crew transported into the mirror universe, their Terran Empire counterparts replaced them in this universe."

"And?" he said, becoming confused.

"And that is where Jack Crusher comes in," she said.

He blinked. "I'm sorry, I don't follow," he heard himself say. Nechayev's next words sounded hollow in the tiny room.

"About a week ago, Jean-Luc, a man claiming to be Jack Crusher appeared in a very odd looking shuttlecraft, drifting close to this starbase. He claims to have escaped from a parallel universe after thirteen years of captivity at the hands of the Terran Empire. According to this man, he can lead us to discover our missing starships."

He reached his now trembling palm out onto the table top, and slowly clenched it into a fist. "Are you trying to convince me that Jack has somehow come back from the dead?"

"First of all, I won't attempt to convince you of anything, Captain. After all, I hardly believe it myself, and I've had a week to grow accustomed to the idea. Secondly, he claims that he never died at all. He was simply transferred into a parallel universe while his mirror counterpart was transferred into our own."

Picard stood up, feeling that his legs were sluggish. "And so...I am to understand that the mirror universe version of Jack is the one I held in my arms as he died?" He whirled around and slammed his fist into the desk. "I don't believe it!"

Nechayev sighed. "And Jeff Naguchi wanted to know why I wanted to speak to you alone...I am sorry, Captain. I certainly cannot blame you for being upset. I know what you must be feeling, Jean-Luc."

"Do you?" He challenged.

"I have lost good friends in the line of duty too, Jean-Luc. You know that."

He looked at her grimly. "Yes...I'm sorry Alynna. But...I can still feel and hear him dying in my arms. I can feel his blood on my hands and smell it in my clothes. And I remember his last words. Of all the memories of Jack that have faded over the years, that is one I will never forget. And now you are telling me that was a stranger I was holding? That my friend never died?"

"Yes. That is what I am telling you. Once you have overcome the shock of the situation, I only hope that as you and Jack get to know each other again, it will become easier."

He ran a hand over his head. " _How?_ Just how am I supposed to tell Beverly something like this?"

"Not to worry," said the Admiral, getting to her feet. "I have already done so."

He could feel nothing but outrage at her words. "What? How could you?"

"Jean-Luc, I did you a favor," she said studying the anguish in her old friend's face. "You had the task of bringing the news to her when Jack died and it took you more than a decade to repair your relationship."

"Relationship," he muttered and looked down at the floor. "She'll never forgive me," he said quietly meeting her gaze.

"Nonsense," she said giving him an uncharacteristically affectionate pat on his arm. "It's not your fault. And she has more important things to consider than just who told her, Jean-Luc. After all, Jack is back."

* * *

They stopped outside of a room adjacent to the base's main transporter room. "He's in here," Nechayev said brusquely, gesturing at the door.

Picard froze. "He's coming aboard right now?"

"Yes. Captain, the priority here if I have not been clear, is to retrieve our missing ships. If this man can help us to achieve this goal, I don't give a damn who he is."

"Well I _do_ give a damn," said Picard stiffly.

Nechayev eyed him. "Do you believe you can carry out this mission with your usual objectivity, Captain?"

"Of course."

"Mr. Crusher is to be afforded his former rank of Lieutenant Commander, for purposes of this mission. Afterwards, Command will reassess his status in Starfleet."

Picard nodded but remained silent.

"Captain Picard…I am no empath but I am sensing a great amount of unease from you. I recognize that you may have reason to doubt this man's authenticity, but you are not, and I repeat _not_ , to undercut the validity of his being among us. And furthermore you are not to interrogate him, or question his story. All of that has already been done in the course of this last week, by our colleagues in Intelligence. Starfleet accepts that Jack Crusher has returned, down to the most minute genetic details."

"But you don't accept it, do you?" he demanded.

"It doesn't matter what I think, Jean-Luc. What matters most to both you and I-what has _always_ mattered, is that we do our duty."

"Understood," he said shortly.

"Rely on Captain Louvois," she said in a gentler tone. "She is by nature an investigator and if there is anything strange about Jack Crusher she will be the one to report it."

"So she's been assigned to spy on him? Which means, that despite what you just told me Starfleet still has its doubts?"

"To some degree. But she is also being posted on the _Enterprise_ as an impartial officer to ensure that he integrates back into our society as painlessly as possible. Despite the insensitivity of your commanding officers, Captain, we do have some understanding of the emotional strain this will cause for Jack and the people who knew him before; in particular Beverly and her son."

"And you believe she will be the most suitable officer for this posting? You couldn't find anyone more objective than Captain Louvois," he said flatly.

"Jean-Luc, your sarcastic disapproval is noted, but it is not, of course, for you to decide. Besides," she said with a wry smile. "Phillipa is quite fond of you. Always has been. In any case I wanted someone with some sense of the history you had with Jack. And she and Jack were not entirely unfamiliar. Ultimately, Jean-Luc, you will be able to count on her loyalty, come what may."

 _Come what may. I don't like the sound of that_. Picard straightened uncomfortably. "If you don't mind, Admiral, I would like to get this over with," he said.

"You will find, I think, that his memory is quite spotty," she said giving him a look as she raised her hand to the door control. He had no doubt that she also questioned Jack's sudden re-appearance, and yet he knew she would go no further than she already had to convey this. "He claims this is due to his ill treatment by the Terran Empire, or Terrans, as he calls them."

Picard nodded as the door swished open. The man inside was immediately visible; immediately recognizable as Jack Crusher. As soon as he stepped in the room, the man walked forward, arms outstretched with a wide grin on his face. _Jack…._

"Jean-Luc! They told me you would be showing up soon. God…how long has it been?"

"Thirteen years," Picard said warily, looking the man over. He had aged, and had put on weight in his face and around his waist, but in all other respects looked eerily familiar. He was Jack Crusher…and yet something inside Jean-Luc screamed irrationally, that it was not Jack Crusher who stood before him, but an imposter.

He took a step forward closer, and amazingly felt some of the old feelings of friendship return in a most pleasant way. His friend was home. He halted and the feeling ebbed somewhat. Ultimately he decided to play along, at least until he was sure. "Hello Jack," he said, still subdued.

"Jean-Luc…hey, it's me," Jack said seeming to sense Picard's uneasiness. He strode forward confidently, just as he would have more than a decade before. Without warning, he gripped Picard into an exuberant hug. Pulling back, he said, "just as tense as ever, I see, buddy." He frowned over at Nechayev. "I thought you were going to give him some time for all of this to set in. Did you just tell him or something?"

"Yes."

"Well," Jack said with a short laugh. "No wonder you were looking at me like that Jean-Luc." He clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't worry, we're going to have some good times together again," he said turning back to grab his small duffle bag of belongings.

He headed for the door, and Picard turned to leave as well when Nechayev held out her hand. "Not so fast, Mr. Crusher. I have one more question for you…."

Jack's eyes widened slightly as he regarded the Admiral. "Yes, Ma'am…sir?"

"You never explained exactly what the implant is…you know the one behind your right eye?"

Jack scratched his chin and looked at Picard. "Uh…yeah. Sorry…it's just been difficult for me to—to talk about. You see, it's a transponder. And it both sends and receives signals. The Terrans stuck it in my head early on—maybe about ten years ago. Corresponds to the ship I was on, and I think it will help me to help you track our ships down."

Nechayev stared at him closely. "Very well. Thank you for your explanation, Commander." She nodded at Picard. "You are both free to go now."

"Thank you sir," Picard said.

"Good luck, Captain."

* * *

Jack's nervous excitement was palpable as he nearly leapt up onto the transporter pad next to Jean-Luc. Picard could not help but smile over at the man, who slung his bag over his shoulder. He placed a hand on Picard's shoulder.

"How is she?" Jack asked, and Jean-Luc felt his stomach do a queasy flip.

"She's wonderful." Picard looked straight ahead as the transporter beam took them.

* * *

 **Hi readers, and fellow writers, thanks for keeping up with each chapter and for taking the time to review. Have a great new year.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 10**

* * *

When Jean-Luc and Jack materialized in transporter room three, only Riker and Data were present, and Data was manning the controls. It seemed that they had both been properly briefed because neither one of them looked surprised in the least to see him with Jack Crusher, although they both wore similar expressions of concern.

Picard stepped down from the pad, gesturing from Jack to Will and Data. "Jack, I'd like you to meet my First Officer, William Riker, and my Second Officer, Lieutenant Commander Data."

Riker stepped forward with an outstretched hand. "Pleased to meet you, Lieutenant Commander Crusher," he said. "I've heard a lot about you."

Jack grinned and gripped Riker's hand. "I wish I could say the same, but as you've probably heard I've been out of commission for a few years."

"Lieutenant Commander Crusher, the official report is that you were transferred into a parallel universe, where you lived for the past thirteen years," Data said. "Meanwhile, your mirror counterpart was transferred into our universe just prior to the explosion which led to his death."

Picard flinched, and looked down at his boots. He was beginning to feel positively ill. _Get it together, Picard._

"What I am curious to know is how your counterpart could have-"

"Data," Riker broke in, glancing at Picard, whose pallor had turned greyish. "That's enough for now."

Jack didn't appear fazed, as he took in Data's appearance with clear fascination. "Not to be rude, but are you a…."

"I am an android," Data finished mildly.

Riker glanced at Picard quickly, but still had a broad smile plastered over his face, as he regarded Jack. "No androids in the Terran Empire, Jack?"

Jack's smile wavered only slightly and then he shrugged. "I've never personally had the pleasure…but sure it's possible." He held Riker's gaze a moment longer, before turning back to Jean-Luc.

"So…Jean-Luc, I should probably get settled. As you might have heard, I've had quite the week. And then, of course I'd like to see my wife and son."

 _Beverly._ Picard nodded only slightly, keeping everything of any importance to him inside. "Data, would you see Jack to his quarters, and arrange for Doctor Crusher to meet with him when she is ready. And please...answer any questions Mr. Crusher may have along the way."

Data and Riker exchanged meaningful glances, but Riker shook his head slightly, as to discourage Data from saying anything awkward. "Yes sir," said Data.

"Later Jean-Luc," Jack said over his shoulder, walking away. "I can't wait to catch up, old buddy."

"Captain Louvois has asked to meet with you, commander," Data was saying to Jack as they moved toward the exit.

"Oh great, my shadow, Phillipa," Jack remarked as they disappeared out the door.

* * *

Picard looked at Will. "Am I safe to assume that Naguchi told you everything?"

Riker nodded slowly. "Yes sir. It's all so hard to believe."

"Well put, Commander; that it is."

"You know you just gave Data permission to pepper him with questions, sir."

Picard looked up at Riker sharply. "Yes, I'm quite aware, Commander."

 _He's not convinced this is really his friend._

Riker cleared his throat and glanced away. "Sir...about Doctor Crusher. She's refusing to talk to anyone but Wesley. Deanna says she's never seen her like this."

"Of course she hasn't," Picard said quietly. "Look at what has just happened." He took a deep breath in trying to quell the uneasiness that had returned as soon as Jack exited the room. "Don't worry," he said. "I'll talk to her." _But what on Earth am I going to say?_

He turned to leave but suddenly all of the events of the day seemed to close in around him. He shut his eyes, and then as he was unable to steady himself, leaned against the wall and retched. Thankfully, nothing came up, lessening his embarrassment only slightly. He felt Riker's hand on his back trying to lend support of some kind; any kind.

"Sir, I just wish I knew what to say about all of this."

Picard pushed himself away from the wall, no longer feeling quite so nauseous. He took in a shaky breath and tugged down at the hem of his tunic. "It's alright, Number One...not to worry. You'll take care of the bridge for the moment?"

"Of course, sir."

* * *

Picard approached Beverly's quarters as quickly as he could without running. Directly outside were Wesley and Deanna, who was talking with the teen quietly. Wesley looked pale and lost, and Picard was immediately grateful for Troi's presence; perhaps more so than he had ever been before.

They saw him approaching, and to Picard's surprise, Wesley nearly ran toward him. He stopped short of grabbing Picard into an embrace, but his young features were filled with both anguish and hope. "Sir, is it true? Mom told me that my father is—that he's alive?"

Picard swallowed thickly, wishing that he had had the foresight to prepare more thoroughly for this moment. He had absolutely no words for the boy. "Wesley…Wesley yes, Jack is alive."

Wesley bowed his head and stared down at the deck. "I don't understand," he whispered. "How did this all happen?" He looked up into Picard's face, and the captain saw the boy regard him with mistrust for the first time ever. "You told us all those years ago that he was dead…but now he's not?"

Picard licked his lips feeling as though he would benefit from drinking about a gallon of water. "Wes, I believed that he had...died—" An image of a dying Jack floated in his mind as it had all morning, since Nechayev's announcement. He brought his hand up to his heart. "That was my experience. But you see he's now reappeared and he says that he never died."

"Never _died_? I don't understand how that can be," Wesley said, reaching up to clumsily wipe at his tear streaked face. "Where has he _been_?"

Picard reached out to touch Wesley's shoulder but the boy stepped back. "He's on board now, Wesley. That is what matters most. When you are ready, Jack will be there for you to answer all of those questions. And if he can't, I promise that I will help you to find the answers you need."

Wesley shook his head mostly in embarrassment, and then wiped his sleeve over his eyes. He breathed in and out a few times, obviously trying to steady his nerves and save face. "Can you—can you talk to her? Talk to Mom? You might be the only one who can get through to her right now, sir."

* * *

"Mom?" Wesley poked his head into the quarters he shared with his mother. The baby was beginning to cry, and he saw a glimpse of his mother holding the baby over in the small kitchenette area. "Captain Picard is here. He wants to talk to you, Mom."

Picard stepped in carefully behind Wesley. His legs felt weighted, almost as much as they had thirteen years ago when he had been faced with bringing the news of Jack's death to Beverly for the first time.

Beverly rubbed Jeanette's back, trying to calm the baby's mood as her own continued to rage with emotion. "Ask him how long he's known. It's the only thing I want to hear him from right now," she called over from the shadows. "And then he can go away and leave me alone," she called to Wesley.

"Shh," he heard her say to the baby as Jeanette began to cry louder.

"I just found out a few hours ago," Picard said. "I believe the Admiral told you first, and then she told me."

"So you didn't know last night, when you were kissing me in my bedroom," Beverly said, still standing in the shadows. There was a bitterness in her voice that he'd never heard before, but something else as well that was utterly confusing.

Wesley swallowed and looked at Picard, who didn't know what to say to the boy, so he gave him the most apologetic look he could muster. "No, I didn't know then, Beverly, I promise you," he answered as gently as possible over the sound of a crying Jeanette.

"So what am I going to do now, Jean-Luc?" she asked, walking out into the living room to face him. He looked down for the first time and noted that the floor was covered in used tissues. Her eyes were puffy from crying, which had no doubt inspired the baby to do the same. "You're here. Do you have answers for me…like you always seem to have? What do I do now, _Captain_?" she asked again, a steely challenge in her tone.

He reached out. "Here, let me take her," he offered, but Beverly backed away, holding the baby tighter. While increasing the distance between them, she never took her furious gaze from his face. He felt as though something cold pierced his heart in that moment.

Wesley walked toward her and held out his arms. "Mom, let me take Jeanette. I think she's hungry…I'll get her some milk," he promised, as his mother gradually relented and released the baby into her son's arms.

"Thank you," she murmured, kissing Wesley on his cheek, as he adjusted his sister in his grasp and moved slowly away. Looking back over his shoulder he headed into his mother's room, leaving them alone.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 11**

"Replicator technology has advanced significantly since your disappearance, Mr. Crusher," Data said, finishing his quick tour of Jack's guest quarters.

Jack attempted to appear impressed. "Hmm, right...great. I'll be sure to try it out," he said. with a congenial smile. "But..." he decided to venture, "You know they had replicators where I was, right?"

Data tilted his head. "No. In fact, it is still unclear to any of us, how similar this so-called mirror universe is to our own," Data said. "We are hopeful that we may rely upon you to educate us on the subject, Commander."

Jack broke into a slow smile. "You're a curious guy aren't you?"

"Yes," said Data. "I am naturally curious. At times, the Captain appears frustrated with the amount of questions I ask related to human behavior-"

Jack laughed. "Bet that drives Jean-Luc crazy."

Data blinked. "Captain Picard has not been driven insane by my questions," he reassured Jack.

Jack raised his index finger. "You know, I just bet there was a Data in that other universe." He shrugged. "Guess I just never ran into him."

Data looked like he was about to ask him another question, so Jack clapped a hand on the android's back, attempting to steer him toward the door. _Ow. He's solid._ "Listen, Data. I have a number of things to take care of...so maybe we could finish this conversation later."

"Of course," Data said, turning back around just as the doors shut in his face.

Jack shook his head. "Jeez...Mr. Twenty Questions. Going to be hard to avoid him."

He heard the familiar beeping from his wristband. _The Boss. Shit._

He tapped the wristband, and the shadowy figure appeared on the tiny screen. _"Jack you have just fourteen hours to reach your first checkpoint. Do not fail in this."_

"Don't worry...I've got this under control. I'll get the ship there. Just-what the hell do I do when we get there?"

 _"That is not your concern, Jack. This is a process. One which I have painstakingly thought out. Therefore, if you do not succeed in leading Picard to the coordinates, something very painful will await you."_

"Yeah, but you're not planning on killing these people, are you? I've just met them, and I have to admit, they're already growing on me-" He broke off, as an excrutiating sensation behind his right eye.

There was a pause. _"Jack, are you beginning to understand that the transponder behind your eye is not controlled by you, and that if I want, I can make things quite difficult for you?"_

Jack gasped, and fell to his knees. "All I did was ask a question...gah..."

 _"To answer your question, Jack, the only person I have already decided to kill is you...if you fail me. Now get me the ship. Everyone and everything else is expendable."_

* * *

Picard walked over to the replicator. "Two glasses of water," he ordered, and the very items whirled into existence. He picked them up and walked over to Beverly, handing her one. He felt she still regarded him with distrust, but her breathing was more steady she had calmed somewhat. He downed his water in a few seconds, realizing again just how thirsty he had been.

When she took the glass from him, her fingers grazed his. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, feeling invigorated by the cold water and her nearness. She sipped at her water, and looked around at the littered floor. "It's a goddamn mess in here," she muttered almost to herself.

He shrugged easily and looked at her, beginning to feel the same physical and emotional urgency that had surfaced between them the night before. It was like a spark that had been ignited and even though it should have been extinguished by the news of his best friend's reappearance, instead it remained. At least for him it remained.

"I don't understand any of this, Jean-Luc," she said, putting the glass down next to her on the table. Anger was beginning to give way to confusion. She twirled the glass in a lopsided manner beneath her palm and then looked up at him. "I'm afraid," she admitted simply.

He placed his hands loosely behind his back. "I'm here for you, Beverly. Now that Jack has returned, I—"

"You're _here_ for me? In what way?" she asked incredulously, as the outrage quickly returned. "As my _friend_? As my shoulder to cry on? Now that my husband is back from the dead, I suppose you and Admiral Nechayev would like me to go back to being the doting wife, as though I haven't been a grieving widow for the past thirteen years!"

"Beverly, I would never ask you to—"

"Jean-Luc, you _can't_ return to the way things were before Jack died, don't you see? None of us can. So many things have happened in my life, Wesley's life…and _your_ life…. We have a child, Jean-Luc."

He stood there, listening to her words, knowing that what she was saying was true. He let his hands drop to his sides. "You're right. Except that Jack didn't die. He's here on this ship. And I don't know what is the right thing to say to you Beverly. I can't pretend that nothing happened between us last night. But whatever you say, I will respect your wishes."

She brought both hands up to her face. "I can't lie to you, Jean-Luc. Not after what happened, what we shared last night. I love Jack," she said quietly. "I always will."

His once weighted legs now felt like jelly, and he thought he felt the blood exit his heart and then take too long to rush back in, making him feel dizzy. "Of course," he said dully.

He didn't expect her to rush forward and take his face in her hands; did not expect her to kiss him so passionately then. He responded, squeezing her tightly to him. She pulled back to look at him for a moment, before bringing her mouth to his again.

* * *

She stroked the side of his face once more before seeming to realize what she was doing. Then she opened her eyes and he could see that she was uncertain again-no longer angry, but uncertain about this. She backed up, so that she was several feet away. He resisted the urge to pursue her, and tell her it would be alright. Because he had no idea what 'alright' would mean to either of them now that Jack had returned.

"I don't know why this keeps happening between us," she said in a low voice. "And why it's happening now, after so many years of not acknowledging this-this between us."

"I don't know either," he said. She had told him moments earlier that she loved Jack, but then she had kissed him. Maybe she had been caught up in the moment. He certainly had been. He still felt intoxicated by her. He let his arms hang loosely at his side and averted his eyes. "Do you want it to stop?"

She shook her head. "No," she admitted. "I don't," she said looking at him directly now. He took a step toward her, feeling the electricity again, but she held up her palm as if to ward him off, along with any attraction she felt for him at that moment. "But you can't possibly ask anything of me right now, Jean-Luc. You can't have any expectations of me, of us, if there _is_ an 'us'," she said. "I need to think about...about everything," she murmured.

"I understand. You haven't even seen Jack yet."

"Where is he now?" she asked, studying his face.

"He's been assigned quarters in the guest area, one deck below us. He may still be there…or he may be meeting with Phillipa Louvois."

Any semblance of calm she had regained, immediately left her. " _What?_ What the hell is _she_ doing on board?"

He was reminded of his own similar reaction back on the Star Base. "Nechayev assigned her as Jack's liason to 'reintegrate' him into the Fleet."

Beverly laughed, but sounded less than amused. "Her. The woman who built her career on trying to run you out of Starfleet after your ship was lost. And now she's been assigned to follow Jack around? Another well-thought out decision by Starfleet Command," she said derisively.

He raised an eyebrow, a little surprised at her intense reaction to the mention of Louvois. But then she was under as much emotional stress as any individual should ever have to encounter. "Nechayev said she chose her because of our history together," he said slowly, not sure why he was trying to justify a decision he himself still questioned.

Beverly stood resting her palm on the back of a chair. Momentarily he wondered if she was using it for support, or considering throwing it at him. "Oh? What kind of history do you share, besides the fact that she tried to _prosecute_ you for doing your duty, Jean-Luc?"

Jean-Luc gave her an uncomfortable smile. "To be fair, she was just doing _her_ duty, Beverly. And it was twelve years ago. Besides, she seemed quite friendly when I saw her this morning."

Beverly smiled back, but it was less than genuine. "Quite friendly...I'm _sure_ she was."

Picard shifted his feet. He never knew Beverly had harbored such strong feelings about his court martial or Phillipa Louvois for that matter. He made himself a mental note to be more cautious when mentioning Phillipa in the future. "We were talking about Jack," he reminded her, reaching out to take her hand. She accepted his hand but to his disappointment kept her distance. He realized that the conversation about Phillipa had been a distraction for her, and instead of letting her talk it through he had rushed her back to the subject of meeting Jack.

He did not and could not comprehend her distress, but he was determined to be there for her in whatever capacity she needed or wanted. And yet a tiny insecure part of him was frightened that now that Jack had returned she would not need or want him anymore. He pushed the beginnings of foolish jealousy out of his mind.

"Should I just go to Jack then?" she asked, still sounding as if she was unsure of the reality of it all.

He smiled weakly. "Whenever you think you are ready, Beverly. Of course, if you would like me to be there, I will," he said with more confidence.

She smiled gratefully. "No, thank you…but I think I need to do this on my own. I should bring Wesley along to visit him too. I'll do it as soon as he gets off bridge duty this afternoon."

Picard frowned and shook his head, glancing into the other room where Wesley was still presumably sitting with the baby. "I'll have Riker find a replacement for Wesley today. There is no need for either of you to be on shift when coverage is readily available," he reassured her.

She squeezed his hand. "Thank you, Jean-Luc. I don't want to wait too long. I don't want Jack to think we don't care about him."

He looked down at their joined hands. "No, of course not." He looked up at her then. "Beverly, I don't want to be selfish, but…what do you want me to say if Jack asks about you and I? Or the baby, of course."

Her face went blank. "I don't know…I'll try and handle it myself for now, if you don't mind. But the baby…of course he needs to know about her. But not all at once. I have no idea what his reaction will be, and I don't want to overwhelm him. That's why I would rather visit him in his quarters when I see him first so there is less of a distraction."

 _What is going to happen when she's alone with him?_ Very quickly the jealousy had returned. _"...you can't possibly ask anything of me right now, Jean-Luc..."_ He took in a slow breath through his nose. "Whatever you think is best. Please let me know if you need anything."

She nodded again, and he was thankful that she could not sense his sudden possessiveness. "Thanks. I'll check in with Dr. Selar to make sure everything is in order in sickbay, and then I'll take the rest of the day off as you suggest." She was getting her sense of balance back, he could see already that she was thinking things through. Her ability to manage this was remarkable really, but all he felt was the selfish need to be close to her.

"I'll...I'll let you know when it's alright to come and see the baby," she said, allowing him a small smile.

He nodded and backed away, heading out the door before he felt compelled again to stay.

* * *

"Captain, we are receiving a distress call from a small vessel at the edge of this sector," Worf announced. "It is a commercial freighter," he confirmed after a moment. "The message is repeating the standard SOS, Captain."

"How long to intercept?" Picard said, straightening in his command chair.

"Thirty-two minutes at our current rate of warp five point five, sir," Data said.

"Increase to warp six," Riker said.

"Aye sir. At that rate of speed we will arrive at the freighter's coordinates in seven minutes."

"Alert sickbay," said Picard. "Tell them to expect casualties." The turbo lift doors swished open behind them, but Picard barely turned his head when Pillipa Louvois strode down the ramp and stood before him.

"Captain," she said.

"Captain," he said returning her greeting, but holding up a hand. "I'm sorry, but now is not a good time. We're in the middle of an unexpected rescue mission."

"Oh," Louvois registered her surprise. "Well, I'm sorry it's not a good time, but I still have some important information to impart to you."

Picard raised his eyebrows and glared at his colleague. "Yes?"

"Lieutenant Commander Crusher has indicated that these are the coordinates we need to travel to within the next fourteen hours in order to find our missing ships." She handed him a small data pad.

Picard took the pad and stood up frowning down at the small screen. He walked forward to ops and handed the pad to Data. "Mr. Data, can we attend to the freighter and still make these coordinates within the time indicated?"

Data glanced up momentarily. "Yes, Captain. Even if we are substantially delayed assisting the freighter, the coordinates Commander Crusher has indicated are reachable within eleven hours from the freighter's coordinates at warp seven, sir."

Picard nodded and took the data pad back, handing it to Louvois. "Let's keep an eye on the time," he called out to the rest of his bridge.

"How did he determine that these are the coordinates we need, Captain?" Picard asked Louvois in a low voice.

Phillipa reminded him quickly about the transponder.

"As much as I trust my old friend, I would like to have him explain this to me, because I hardly understand—"

"I told him to be ready to brief you and your staff within a few hours, Captain."

He nodded. "That's fine," he said walking back to his seat, but remained standing. He gestured for her to sit down. "Be my guest, Captain. It's not every day I have another captain on board to share the perks."

She laughed with unexpected humor and sat down gracefully in the captain's chair.

* * *

"Approaching freighter coordinates, Captain," Worf said from tactical.

"Raise shields and keep them raised until we've assessed the situation."

"Aye sir."

"Any other ships in the vicinity?" Riker asked.

"No sir."

"Open hailing frequencies," said Riker.

"Hailing frequencies open, sir."

"Commercial freighter this is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the USS Enterprise. We stand ready to assist."

"No response, sir," said Worf.

"Commercial freighter, what is your condition?"

"Still no response, sir."

"Life signs?"

"Minimal," said Data.

"Computer, focus in on the freighter's hull," said Riker.

The view screen immediately showed a close up of a small grey ship, drifting.

"Magnify," said Picard. He brought his hand up thoughtfully to his chin. "Some minor scoring on the hull, possible battle damage, but nothing to warrant such weak life signs."

"Prepare a boarding party," Riker barked.

"Belay that," Picard said, still watching the screen.

"But sir, there could be survivors," Troi objected from her seat next to Captain Louvois.

"Quite right, Counselor. But I'm not risking any of my people over there. I don't like this," he said slowly. He glanced up at Worf. "Lieutenant beam over a small probe with audio and visual capability and establish a link with our main viewer."

Worf's hands flew over the console. "Shields down…transporting now, sir."

"Raise shields again," Riker said.

"We have the link-up, Captain," said Worf.

"On screen."

The view screen shifted to the interior of the small vessel, and it was quite simply horrific. Human blood covered seemingly every surface of the freighter, and at least a dozen lifeless bodies were visible through the probe's camera.

"Captain," Deanna said, jumping to her feet. "Someone is alive in there."

"It's just like that massacre on that science outpost," Riker muttered.

"Sick bay do you acknowledge?" Picard shouted, hitting his communicator.

"Dr. Selar here. We are prepared to receive any survivors, Captain."

"Shields down, lock on to all life signs and beam them directly to sick bay!"

"Captain, look!"

Picard turned at the sound of Riker's voice to see his first officer pointing at the screen. Everyone but Data and the helmsman were now on their feet.

"Freeze the probe," Picard said quietly.

"What the hell _is_ that?" asked Riker. "Wait a minute, is that what I think it is?"

In the middle of the freighter's small bridge, there was a large spinning hologram of a black and yellow planet, impaled by a sword. It was similar, but not exactly the same as the one Data had presented them with a few days earlier.

"According to the record Admiral Nechayev transferred to the ship's computer this morning, it appears to be the last known insignia of the Terran Empire," said Data looking up at the screen from ops.

Picard turned and pointed at Worf. "Contact Starfleet Command, inform them of—" He broke off as the vessel exploded suddenly.

* * *

Hi, thanks for reading, and for your reviews. FF is having issues, so I'm hoping this will post okay. Take care...


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 12**

* * *

A few minutes ago, the captain had ordered a minor increase in speed and a course change. Normally, Chief Engineer Geordi LaForge would be interested in just why that had occurred, but for the moment, he was preoccupied. "Incredible..." he whispered, stared with a growing amount of respect into the diagram on his screen. The internal workings of the device was so similar to his own Visor, that he had to second-guess what he was looking at. And yet it was so small, that it was about 1/20th the size of Jack Crusher's eye. Commander Riker had forwarded LaForge Starfleet's technology files related to the so-called Terran Empire, recently released by Admiral Nechayev to aid the crew in its mission.

In particular, he had been ordered to view the scan of the device implanted behind Jack Crusher's eye, and provide an opinion. Now he saw that it was both a multi-use subspace transponder, and an amplifier. Able to navigate across multiple frequencies, the device was so sensitive in its capability, that it could in theory tap into any frequency. If the recipient of the device was able to control the amplification of outgoing signals, and the gathering of incoming signals with his brain, well that made the device really worth having; much like his Visor.

Geordi was familiar with subcutaneous transponders and other types of subdermal communications devices, and was capable of creating more low key version in a short amount of time. But this was different. He doubted a Starfleet surgeon would want to implant, much less extract such a device, due to the risk to the patient. Not to mention, the unknown and possibly harmful effects of subspace debris bombarding the average person's brain. Therefore, whoever had implanted this in Crusher's eye, had to be either very skilled, incredibly callous, or maybe both.

There was a separate section of the device that he just couldn't identify. Surely it had a purpose, but just what he couldn't fathom at the moment. He was so blown away at the level of technology that he had to tell himself to slow down and take it one step at a time.

LaForge stood up quickly, as there was a mild reverberation in the deck. "Report," he yelled from over his shoulder to a nearby engineer who stood next to a control terminal. "The bridge reports a small commercial freighter just exploded off the starboard bow, sir."

"I see it now," he said, his fingers gliding over a nearby console. "Damage to the shields was negligible." He straightened. "Well, I hope everyone in that ship got out safely." And then with a shake of his head, he went back to work.

* * *

Worf looked up with alarm. "Captain, that ship was rigged to explode, sir. I would say some kind of mine was attached to its hull. Shields have taken minor damage," he confirmed.

"Someone is trying to send us a message," Riker said. "They had to know that wouldn't do us much damage. But they wanted to leave a calling card."

"Yes, but who are _they_?" questioned Picard angrily. "Sickbay…do you have the survivor?"

"Yes, Captain," responded Selar's measured voice. "But I recommend you come down here quickly. And please bring Counselor Troi with you, as the patient is barely coherent."

"Acknowledged," said Picard.

"Counselor," he gestured for Troi to follow him, and she fell into step. He slowed. _I should have Jack meet me in sick bay,_ he thought _. Perhaps he'll have something to contribute._ He hesitated, but proceeded anyway.

"Picard to Lt. Commander Crusher," he said hitting his communicator. No response. He turned to Riker. "Didn't you give him a communicator?"

Riker nodded. "I gave him a communicator and a uniform," he said. "Whether he's wearing them…can't tell you sir."

"Well the computer certainly can. Computer, where is Lieutenant Commander Crusher?" asked Picard.

 _Lieutenant_ _Commander Jack Crusher is presently in the living quarters of Chief Medical Officer, Beverly Crusher._

The bridge seemed to grow deathly quiet. Immediately sorry that he had asked the question, Picard lowered his head and stepped into the turbo lift, with Troi trailing behind. "We'll be in sickbay," he said flatly.

* * *

Beverly stepped into her quarters after leaving sick bay. Just a few moments after leaving, she'd been paged by Dr. Selar who had explained the incoming wounded situation. It had been one survivor, and she halted in the middle of the corridor, conflicted. There were as many reasons for her to return to sick bay as to go to her quarters and mull over how to reconnect with Jack.

But Dr. Selar assured her that things were under control, and so she continued her walk back to her quarters. She'd have to relieve poor Wesley from baby duty eventually. She'd decided to talk with him before going to visit Jack. She was proud of how well he had done so far with Jeanette. It had been just the two of them for so long, that his emotions must have been reeling just as much as her own; albeit in a different way.

The doors swished open and she walked into her quarters ready to call out to Wesley, when she saw he was standing in the living room. Jeanette must have been asleep in the other room. And then her gaze fell on Jack. He was standing there alive and well and talking to his son, as though no time had passed, and as though Wesley had always been almost a grown man. Although visually, she knew him immediately to be Jack, she paused, because something inside her told her that he was a stranger.

They both turned to face her, and Wesley looked almost guilty to be there without her in this strangely surreal moment. Jack smiled at her though. "Hi Bev," he said, sounding just like he had in the old days.

She nearly fell into a chair at the dining room table and brought her hand up to her mouth. Her legs shaking, she realized she had been in shock since Nechayev' s visit earlier in the day, and now the emotions just came rolling out. "Jack...is it really you?"

He laughed and walked toward her. She felt an immediate warmth in her brain and heart as they approached. Wesley's happily tearful eyes reflected her similar emotions. It _was_ Jack...it really was him. "Of course," he said, hugging Wesley affectionately around the shoulders. "It has been far too long," he said.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 13**

Picard and Troi rushed into main sick bay and were greeted by a nurse who led them to Selar. The freighter crew member was in terrible condition, and one did not have to be a doctor to see he would not survive much longer.

"Have you determined the cause of his injuries, Doctor?" Asked Picard.

Selar continued to take what appeared to be life saving measures with the man, while be wheezed and moaned, obviously in considerable pain. "He has been tortured," said Selar gravely. "He has severe internal bleeding as well as multiple broken and fractured limbs. There is also evidence of knife wounds. The injuries around his heart may cause his death, as he has lost significant amounts of blood already."

"A sadist did this," Picard muttered angrily. "And to prevent this from happening to others we need to know what he knows."

"I am afraid you will not be successful in obtaining a reasonable explanation from him, Captain," Selar said. "His mind and body are broken," she said in a very Vulcan sort of way. "Even a mind-meld at this point would be...unwise."

Picard nodded to Troi. "Counselor, please do your best. We haven't much time," he urged her, and she moved forward closer to the patient. The man's eyes regained some of their focus as he looked up at Troi. Suddenly he began to scream. "Get her away from me! Don't let her touch me...Please!" He struggled to cover his ears with his injured limbs, while he continued to scream. "No, no, no..." He thrashed around in the table.

"Doctor he's going into cardiac arrest again," said a nurse.

"Please stand back," Selar said to them. "This patient is dying."

Picard caught Troi's arm as she backed away. "Counselor we may still need you-"

"Captain this man is deathly afraid of me," she said, looking up into his eyes. "Whoever or whatever attacked that defenseless ship showed no mercy to his crew. And for some reason he associates me with those murderers. It would be best if I keep my distance, to save him additional distress."

Picard leaned in, desperate for some information, any information, the dying man was able to convey. The man grabbed a fistful of the front of the captain's uniform, pulling him in closer. "She'll kill you next, fool...no escape," the man choked.

Picard's head turned at the sound of a high-pitched whine emitted from a monitor. "It is too late," said Doctor Selar. "The patient is dead. Time of death 1130."

The man's hand slowly released from his tunic, and Picard took in a shuddering breath, looked down at his bloodied uniform, and remembered Jack's death. But it hadn't been Jack, had it? _It wasn't my friend who died that night...why can't I accept this?_

Back in the present, Picard leaned into the exam table digging his knuckles into the fabric. " _Dammit,"_ he murmured. Momentarily he pushed himself upright and glanced at Dr. Selar. "Thank you for your efforts, doctor," he said solemnly. He looked down at the bloody handprint on his uniform again, and noted that the physician was just as disheveled as he was. But he also knew that unlike him, her inner world was well under control. "You did what you could."

Selar merely nodded, and then tilted her head, as Troi moved to join them again. She was pale and breathing quickly. Clearly the fact that the man had expressed an extreme fear of her just before he died, had shaken the Counselor's usual calm disposition under pressure.

Dr. Selar spoke presently. "Captain, the patient's wounds were inflicted in such a way that indicates the perpetrator did not wish him to …expire too quickly."

"He was tortured, Captain," Deanna confirmed still ashen. _By a woman who looks just like me._

"Yes," Dr. Selar said.

Picard shifted his gaze back to Selar and nodded. "As soon as you've finished your examination of the body, doctor..."

"I will report to you directly in one hour, Captain," she agreed.

* * *

Beverly walked into Jack's embrace and felt immediately that all of her fears had been natural, but she could let them go now. Jack was here, and he was alive. Everything else could be worked out.

"I love you," she said, and he squeezed her tightly in response.

"I missed you Bev," he said. He breathed in. _Wow, she smells good._ "Everything about you. Your love was the only thing that kept me going all those years."

He looked over Beverly's shoulder at Wesley who still looked absolutely shocked. _Poor kid...but he's interrupting my flow, here._

He beckoned the boy over silently, and put a hand on his shoulder when Wesley stopped close by. He winked at the teenager, nodding towards the door. Wesley smiled and exited their quarters without another peep. _Best implant ever._

For her part, Beverly didn't seem to notice that Wesley had gone. She nestled her head next to his and rubbed her palm over his shoulder. "I still can't believe this is happening," she murmured.

Jack took in a deep breath. "Me neither. It's a miracle," he said, kissing her on the cheek. She turned her head his way, and of course he took the opportunity to kiss her again. She hugged him tighter but then shyly turned her head away from him again.

"What do we do now?" she asked quietly.

 _Hmm._ He shrugged, "Well, why don't you show me the rest of your place?"

She opened her eyes and looked at him with a flash of uncertainty, before acquiescing. "Okay," she said, letting go of him. Jack walked by her towards her bedroom, and coming to her senses, somewhat, she said, "Wait!" remembering the baby was in there miraculously asleep for once. She wasn't ready, hadn't had a chance to think of a way to tell him about Jeanette.

Jack turned halfway around, and took her hand again. "It's okay, honey, just show me around. No pressure," he said, tugging her hand.

Beverly blinked, feeling a little more confident, until they walked into her room, and Jack let go of her hand. "Huh?" he said, peering into the crib. "Whose..."

"This is Jeanette," she said. "My baby," she said, feeling tears come to her eyes.

Jack looked from her to the baby again. _The red hair gene runs strong in this family._

Jack scratched the top of his head. "Beverly, I don't want to ask too many questions, but..."

She put her hand on the railing of the crib, protectively. "I know this is difficult, Jack, but I need to tell you the truth right away. It's not something I want to hide from you or anyone."

He watched her silently, wondering why at this moment, when she was close, the implant wasn't affecting her in the way it had out in the living room. "Jean-Luc is Jeanette's father," she said, meeting his eyes.

Jack stepped back. "What?"

"He's her father," she said again, lifting her chin slightly.

"But...I don't get it. I know it's been thirteen years, but...you're still my wife."

She took his hand. "Yes, which is why I need to be honest with you, Jack."

"Are you two, you know..." he frowned and glanced over at her bed. "Well the baby looks pretty new."

Beverly dropped her hand from his. "I estimate that Jeanette is about two months old," she said.

"You estimate? What...I'm confused."

"She was brought to us by an alien called the Traveler. We don't know why it happened. But we're both happy that she's here."

Jack laughed, relieved. "So you're not with him then?"

Beverly blinked, and he saw something in her eyes. He took her hand in his again. "No," she answered. "But he needs to be part of her life, Jack. I hope you can understand this."

He kissed her on her forehead and pulled her closer. "No problem, if I can adjust to thirteen years in a parallel universe, I can adjust to this. As long as I have you."

* * *

Picard strode onto the bridge with Troi in tow. He needed answers, and as far as he was concerned, there was only one person on board capable of providing them.

"Where's Jack?" he demanded. "We're in the middle of a mission, and he's our guide."

Riker and Data who had been quietly conferring near science station one, turned to look at him.

"Sir," said Riker. "I just assumed he was still with Doctor Crusher, and didn't want to disturb them-"

"I don't care to hear the details, Commander," Picard snapped. "Just go and get him, and make sure he puts on his damn communicator."

"Aye sir," Riker said, quickly departing the bridge. Data returned to his post at ops.

"Captain, we've resumed our previous course toward the coordinates provided by Lieutenant Commander Crusher, and assuming no further diversions, at our present speed of warp six, we will arrive in ten hours and eleven minutes."

"Good." Picard walked to his chair and tapped the arm panel on his chair, activating the intercom. "Command Officers report to the bridge in 20 minutes," he said into the intercom.

Troi sat down in her chair, and eyed Phillipa Louvois curiously, who was in turn eyeing Captain Picard from Riker's usual seat.

Picard sat down, but not with his usual controlled grace. Instead, he fell back heavily into the captain's chair, as though shoved.

He turned his head to Louvois. "I thought you were supposed to be keeping track of Jack, Captain. You don't see the need for him to wear a communicator?"

She looked at him squarely. "I do," she said simply. "But like Commander Riker, I thought it might be rude to interrupt him while he was reconnecting with his wife."

Picard cleared his throat and smoothed his hand over the console. "So...you've developed some sensitivity over the years, it seems," he observed.

Captain Louvois smiled.

"And it seems you're just as warm and fuzzy as ever, Captain."

He glanced at Troi, speaking volumes without a word. He was surprised by her ashen appearance. The events in sick bay had been traumatizing for her, even more so than for him, given the dying man's declarations.

"Counselor," he said softly. "Please go and take a break before the meeting."

Troi nodded gratefully. "Thank you sir," she said and got up to leave.

Louvois watched Troi walk away, before turning back to Picard.

"Is this a typical day for you people?" she asked, nodding at his blood stained uniform.

His head snapped in her direction. "Is that a serious question, Captain?"

She shrugged. "Sorry, just trying to make conversation," she said, sounding moderately apologetic.

"As much as I appreciate verbally sparring with you, Phillipa, I have some business to attend to. We'll convene the staff meeting in fifteen minutes," he said getting to his feet.

* * *

"Jack...what happened to you that night? Jean-Luc had always told us it was an accident, and that you died bravely...but, you're here now." Beverly wiped a tear from her eye, and watched him closely across the table. Wesley sat nearby.

Jack smiled, and took her hand in his. "Bev...the most important thing is that I'm back now. But if you really want to know," he met her eyes, and she nodded.

"Jean-Luc ordered us down to the base to investigate. Me and T'Pel...you remember her, don't you?"

Beverly nodded distractedly.

"Don't know why he gave the order for the away team in the first place, but...well it's water under the bridge now, isn't it?" Beverly and Wesley watched him with rapt attention. Captain Picard had never explained the details of what had happened that night, presumably to spare them further distress.

"Once we got down there, we set off some kind of booby trap, I guess. The base started generating these violent storms..."

"Ion storms?" Wesley asked.

"Yes, ion storms," Jack said. "The base was generating them somehow, and while we were down there, the _Stargazer_ was in danger. Due to the storms there was a serious energy drain on the ship and it was trapped. Down on the station, I was trying to shut off a power coupling that had caught fire. I knew if I could do that and deactivate the other couplings, the storms would stop, the _Stargazer_ would be freed, and T'Pel and I could beam back up."

He paused, and Beverly squeezed his hand. "I called the ship for back-up...you know, because the fire was spreading. But I couldn't get an answer. When I finally got in communication with Jean-Luc he argued with me, and demanded we beam back up to the ship immediately. He said we would take our chances, once we were safely back on the ship."

Beverly shook her head in confusion. "But...he always said he was with you, when you..."

Jack rubbed her hand with both of his. "He was...he got there just in time to save the day. You know, old Jean-Luc." Jack frowned. "But, well it really didn't work out that way. When he beamed down, Jean-Luc amplified the transport beam. Admiral Naguchi thinks that's how it all happened."

"What?"

"Well...I'm not sure of the science of it all," said Jack. "Wes, you probably know better than I do. But somehow whatever he did with the transport beam made it possible for me to change places with the other Jack, the one from the Terran Empire."

"But there was an explosion?"

Jack nodded, and then rubbed his eyes. _Shit I'm forgetting something,_ he thought to himself. He felt Beverly's hand on his arm, mistakenly believing that he needed her support.

"It's alright, Jack...you don't have to tell us everything now."

"No...I want to," he said in a stronger voice. "When Jean-Luc arrived on the base, his transporter signal was very weak-at least that's what he said. I can remember him shouting up to me to wait there, and that he was going to boost the signal again and get us out of there. I saw him setting up some amplification tripod with T'Pel. The fire was getting too hot, so I started to climb down from the platform. Jean-Luc told me to stay where I was, or he would lose the transporter signal. The next thing I knew there was an explosion. Whatever he did must have sparked the explosion. I thought I was dead, but then I ended up in some dark hallway on a giant ship."

Beverly let go of his hand, and looked down at the table. "You must have been so frightened," she said.

Jack smiled and took Beverly and his son's hands again, looking at both of them. "All that matters now, is that we're back together. We can be a family again."


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 14**

* * *

 **Enterprise 1701-D**

Picard was mildly irked to find that Phillipa Louvois was already in the conference room when he arrived to begin the meeting. And she was the only one.

"Alone again at last, Captain," she said, not looking up from her data pad.

"I can't say that I've eagerly awaited this moment as much as you seem to have," said Picard, sitting down in his customary chair.

This time she put her data pad down and looked at him evenly. "I think we need to clear the air, here, Captain."

He turned toward her slightly. "Oh?"

"Yes. If you think I volunteered for this mission, you are sorely mistaken."

"If you think I've been lying awake at night pondering your motivations, Phillipa, it is you who are mistaken," he said, getting up to pour himself a cup of tea. "Can I get you anything?" he asked easily.

"Coffee, black," she said. "Thank you," she said when he handed her the cup and sat back down.

He stared into his tea cup for a few moments.

"If you don't mind me asking, how are you feeling?"

He shook his head. "What are you talking about?"

"About Jack. How do you feel about Jack?"

He sipped his tea and kept his expression neutral. "Are you deposing me? Should I be requesting defense counsel?"

She put her coffee down. "You know damn well that something is not right about Jack!"

His brow creased. "Do I? I've hardly seen him since he came aboard." _Because he's been re-connecting with his wife._

"But meeting him once was all it took, wasn't it?"

He didn't shy away from her piercing gaze. "I am under orders to accept Jack's reappearance, Phillipa. I was even ordered not to 'interrogate' him. Now why would Command feel it necessary to _order_ me not to interrogate my best friend? You tell me."

She raised an eyebrow. "Why? Because I suppose that if there are any remaining doubts about his identity, that would be my job to find out the truth about him...unofficially," she added, sipping her coffee again. "And, maybe someone is actually trying to protect you, because of your connection to Jack."

He laughed at that.

"Why are you laughing?"

"Protect me? You don't know what you're talking about, Captain Louvois."

She put her hand on his unexpectedly. He stiffened, but didn't move away. "No, you're wrong about this, Jean-Luc. I know you still don't trust me because of our experience all those years ago, but I want you to listen to me."

" _Our_ experience? You think back on my court martial with fond memories, do you?"

"No. That's not what I meant to say. I know that you must feel that all of Starfleet doubts you or mistrusts you. But, I'm trying to tell you that there are still people who support you after Wolf 359. Nechayev, if you didn't already know, is one of your greatest defenders."

He pulled his hand from under hers slowly. "Did I ask for anyone to defend me?"

"No, but maybe you should. You're very stubborn, do you know that?"

"You happen to be the third woman who's said that to me in the last week or so," he said with a shrug.

She laughed heartily at that. "Oh, I am sure...no doubt I am in good company."

He just smiled, but said nothing.

Her smile eventually faded as she watched him. "I'm serious about Jack. Do you think that maybe once... just once, we could be on the same side on an issue?"

He sat back in his chair and looked at her. "I plan on carrying out my orders, Phillipa; which are primarily to find our missing people. If Jack knows where they are, and he's willing to help us, _that_ is my main concern."

She sighed. "You've got enough to worry about, I understand. Just promise me that you'll at least keep an open mind, if I find evidence about Jack that doesn't make everyone happy."

"I'll try," he said. "But don't think for a minute that I plan on defending you from Beverly Crusher, who has her own very strong opinions about you," he added with a small smile. He opened his palms in a helpless gesture. "There is really only so much I can do..."

"Fair enough." She smiled back at him, and patted his hand once more. They both looked up as Picard's senior officers began to file into the room, and Louvois resumed a perfectly professional demeanor.

Data and Geordi were chatting about something engineering related and continued as they sat down across from each other. Riker sat on Picard's left, while Troi sat down next to Louvois, who was sitting in Troi's usual seat. She glanced with a smile at Louvois, who gave her a perfunctory nod. Worf walked in looking annoyed, and Beverly and Jack arrived last. To Picard's mild surprise, Wesley Crusher trailed behind them.

Riker took notice. "Mr. Crusher, this is a senior staff meeting-"

Picard held up his hand. "It's alright, Number One. Mr. Crusher, you are welcome to stay and participate in today's meeting."

Jack turned to look at him. His communicator was attached to his uniform somewhat precariously, but it was attached. He gestured toward himself with a confused look. "Are you talking to me?"

Picard cleared his throat. "No, sorry, Jack, I was addressing Ensign Crusher...Wesley, it's fine for you to stay."

It caused Picard some unease, when Wesley turned to fix him with a very odd expression. "Thank you, Captain."

Picard watched as Jack patted Wesley on the shoulder and they sat down together. Beverly sat on Riker's left, and next to Jack, placing her closer to Picard than Jack was. It made him nervous that he wouldn't have a direct line of sight when speaking to Jack. He couldn't afford to have too many distractions.

* * *

He tapped the side of his teacup with a stylus, and the room quieted down. "Thank you all for coming. Let me first start by welcoming Lt. Commander Jack Crusher, who has been...very much missed by his family, friends and colleagues for many years now. I am very glad to..." he paused, but regained his composure quickly.

"It is with great happiness that I welcome my friend back into Starfleet. I will let Jack explain his circumstances to you, but suffice it to say, he is to be given every privilege afforded to any other member of the crew, and given the seriousness of this mission, he needs your full cooperation." Picard gave Jack his most encouraging expression.

"Uh...where should I start," Jack said slowly. He glanced at Beverly, seemingly for guidance.

Beverly looked sharply at Picard. "You can't possibly be asking him to recount his entire experience in front of everyone here?"

"Doctor, I need to hear from Jack, so that we know what to expect when we reach these coordinates he's provided," he explained steadily. _Please do not argue with me. Not here._

Beverly sat back in her chair, and gave him a pointed look, but said nothing more.

Jack took one of Beverly's hands in his, resting them both on the table. Picard flicked his gaze away, uncomfortably, and rested it on Jack's face, watching his friend expectantly.

 _Oh, he didn't like that little move,_ Jack thought. _At least I know what throws him off, already._ Jack smiled at Picard and squeezed Beverly's hand, letting his expression sober appropriately. "When I was in captivity, I was implanted with a device behind my right eye," Jack began. "I think it was some kind of experiment, to be honest. The device was used to...find me when I was needed," he said. "Early on I found it not only emitted signals, but also picked up signals. I learned to interpret these signals, which included the ability to identify the particular transponder frequencies of rival ships, for the benefit of my captors."

"If you don't mind my asking, how did you learn to filter all of the junk out?" LaForge asked. "I have a similar challenge with my Visor."

"I don't know," said Jack. "I guess I just grew used to the pain."

"It hurts you?" Beverly asked, stroking the side of his arm with concern.

 _No, but that feels really good._ Jack focused his attention on Picard, who also looked concerned for him. "Only sometimes, Bev," Jack said in a brave voice.

Picard shifted uncomfortably. He didn't like hearing that Jack had been treated in this way. And he couldn't help but find some parallels in his own experiences with the Borg.

"I was on board a ship that collected other ships. The one I'm betting has our ships now. I picked up another transmission indicating that the collecting ship would be at the coordinates I gave you at that exact time."

Phillipa Louvois sat forward annoyed. "You didn't tell me about that," she said sharply.

Beverly looked like she was about to shout something across the table, but Jack said something to quietly calm her.

He looked at Louvois. "Sorry, Phil, there's just been a lot going on."

Picard sighed internally. "Jack, please afford Captain Louvois the appropriate respect, and refer to her accordingly."

Beverly threw Picard a disbelieving look, and then shook her head, looking away with her arms crossed.

Jack frowned. "Okay. Sorry. Look, I'm sorry I didn't mention it before but I have the transmission stored in here," he said showing them his wristband. "It's a little garbled. But," he tapped his temple for effect. "I can understand it in here," he assured them.

Picard nodded to Data. "Data, please retrieve the transmission from Jack's data device and try to decode it."

"Aye sir," said Data. Jack froze. _I didn't actually think they'd want to listen to it._ He put a hand on his wrist, unsure of whether it was a good idea to hand over the wrist band he had been provided by The Boss.

"There is no need to take off the band, Commander," Data said to Jack. "I will access it, while you continue your briefing."

"Uh...okay," Jack said, trying not to sound too relieved.

"Forgive me Jack, but we're all a little confused here," said Riker. "What exactly can we expect to find at those coordinates? After all, the ship you were on was in an alternate universe. How will we even know if it's there?"

 _Yeah, one that doesn't exist,_ thought Jack. _The only thing I'm expecting to find at those coordinates is my paycheck, so to speak. Anyway, here goes..._

Jack did his best to mirror Riker's confused expression. "I just assumed you knew. Admiral Naguchi said you would know," Jack said, turning to Picard.

Picard shook his head, nonplussed. "What?"

"In order to crossover to the mirror universe you have to create the right conditions. Naguchi told me that as long as you can amplify a transporter beam to the correct frequency, incorporating ion interference, you can transport into the other universe. Once there, once you find the collecting ship, I know you'll be able to find the Starfleet ships without too much trouble."

Picard looked at Riker, who shrugged but didn't look pleased. "Admiral Naguchi didn't say a word about this, sir."

"Nor did he mention it to me," said Picard. He glanced at Troi, who he noticed for the first time was watching Jack very closely.

"Is there a problem?" Jack asked Jean-Luc as naively as possible. He looked at Beverly with concern. "It's okay," she mouthed silently to him.

Picard brought his palm to his forehead briefly, before raising his steady gaze up again. "Jack, it would have been best if we'd had this information before now. We'll be there in less than nine hours, and are rather ill-prepared, don't you think?"

"Oh I don't know about that, Jean-Luc. Can't you just re-create the same conditions you caused the night I disappeared? After all, you've had thirteen years to think it all through."

* * *

 **ISS Enterprise 1701-D _Mirror Universe_**

He disliked waiting, but when the objective was so close in sight, he admitted there was a delicious aspect to being kept from his prey just a little bit longer. He squinted, scanning the expanse of space from his tactical glasses. Nothing. No enemies to fear, and no immediate need to attack or defend, and why? Because he was still the captain of the flagship of the fleet, and the bloody Klingons had been silent for nearly weeks now. Perhaps once and for all, they'd been bludgeoned into submission, and would soon be subjects of the Empire, much like the Andorians, the Ferengi, and of course, the Vulcans.

His only fear was that _she_ would put an end to his reign. His true rival, somewhere across the galaxy traveling like a queen on her leviathan ship. But he had something yet that would thwart her plans to destroy him, and once he had accomplished his vision...why she would be so impressed that she might even consider taking him back into her bed. His self-satisfied smile wavered slightly. But he knew there would be pain first. Always pain before pleasure, in the Empire.

He removed the tactical glasses and they floated up into the red haze of the tactical tube above the captain's chair. He waved a hand, and the force field around the command center dropped. A force field was a necessity when power was the main commodity and on this ship. As such, it had to be protected. It had been his own personal command for the installation of this safety measure a few years ago.

LaForge when he was loyal then...had created all kinds of convenient technologies for the captain. _LaForge._ The very thought of that traitor with _her_ made him nearly sick with rage. Just what benefits had his betrayal of Picard gained him now? He knew very well the types of benefits she was capable of providing, and the thought just made him sicker.

He got up moved away from his chair, stroking his short salt and pepper beard absently. It was a habit that calmed his nerves. There was no one on the bridge at the moment that he needed to be particularly wary of. But he had learned the hard way to always watch his back, force fields or no.

"Where's Riker?" he shouted to no one in particular.

He heard a familiar mutter from the helm. "What did you say, you little twit?" he walked forward with his hands on his hips.

The young man at the helm narrowed his eyes, but said nothing further. He felt the captain poke his shoulder.

"Get up, Crusher! If you've got something to say...I'm sure the rest of the bridge would enjoy hearing it..." The crew laughed, of course.

Wesley slowly pushed himself up out of his seat and stood to face Picard.

"I _said_ , he's probably with Troi. Making a fool of you, again... _Captain_."

Picard lashed out, grabbing the teen's face with his palm, and shoved him to the deck.

"Don't even act as though you intend to get up to face me again, Crusher. Cowardice runs in your family." He started to walk away from the teen.

"Oh really? Then why are you so terrified of my mother? Answer me that Picard," he spat.

Picard turned and pointed in the boy's face. "Name one soul, woman or man in this whole Empire who isn't! Name them, Wesley, and I will forgive your insolence."

Wesley's lip trembled. No, no, no. Not that..."I-I'm sorry I said it," he stammered, hating himself for groveling, but what could he do? Everyone groveled at some point in their career he supposed. It was just one of many ways to stay alive. But he feared, if he didn't get off this ship soon, groveling would no longer be enough.

Picard shook his head, disgusted, and wandered away. He nodded to his most trusted security guard, and hooked his thumb toward the lift. "Put him in the Booth," he ordered gruffly.

A slim woman walked quickly to Wesley, and grabbed his arm roughly, yanking him to his feet. "Gladly," said Lt. Yar.

Wesley shook his head vigorously. "No!" He shouted the rest of the way to the turbo lift. "Nooo!"

Picard gestured to the replacement helmsman. "The coordinates are set, warp seven."

"Aye, Captain."

* * *

 **A few Hours later... _Mirror Universe_**

Riker looked up into Deanna's dark eyes, which shone in the low light of his bedroom. There was always a glow about her, but lately, she was even more fierce looking. It made the sensual experience of being with her never dull. Besides, you never knew when she might pull a knife. He rubbed his palm in the small of her back. "Not using the Booth on anyone today? It's not like you to take a day off, Troi. Not that I'm complaining."

She scratched her fingernail over his shoulder blade. "I've been busy...as you well know. I make these sacrifices for us, you know. One of us has too..." She pulled a long sharp dagger from her belt, and tossed it on a nearby chair.

"Sacrifice, ha! You love torturing people, it's what you're known for."

"Among other things," she said, giving the side of his neck a lick.

He laughed. "You think the information on those coordinates is reliable?"

She smiled. "We'll find out when we get there."

"Who's our source?"

"You don't need to know that," she scoffed.

"What about Picard?"

"He doesn't suspect a thing about my little excursions into the other universe. He's so wrapped up in his own plans he thinks we're on the same side-at least he's willing to believe we are for now."

"Are you still sleeping with him?"

"Yes. And you had better hope my arrangement with Picard doesn't become more permanent. You have no ambition, Will."

He grazed his lips over her neck. "Oh yes, I do."

* * *

 **Okay, guys, thanks so much for your reviews and for keeping up with the story. Until next time...**


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 15**

* * *

 **PRIME UNIVERSE**

Picard was enveloped in an uncomfortable silence. He knew the eyes of the people around the table, those he respected and cared for, were on him. And Jack's words... _why don't you just recreate the same conditions from the night I disappeared?_ "Jack, I don't understand," he said quietly.

"You don't?"

Beverly put a restraining hand on his forearm. "Jack..."

Jack gave Beverly a brief smile, before he turned back to Picard. "Jean-Luc, look...everyone makes mistakes. Even you."

"Re-create what conditions, Jack? You sound as if you believe I had control over what happened to you. As much as I wanted to control the situation, Jack, I could not." His throat was dry, and he took a sip of water. Despite his inner turmoil, his hand was steady when he placed the glass down.

"You amped up the transporter signals, Jean-Luc, you-"

"I _amplified_ the signals to beam in and get you out of there, Jack," Picard said quickly, his voice beginning to waver for the first time.

"You needed to be the hero-"

"No! I tried to-"

"What about the explosion? The amped signals could have caused it."

"The whole station was on fire by then, Jack," Picard said in a low voice. He placed his hands under the table, and squeezed his left thumb, which sometimes twitched in times of stress, following his Borg experience. He had to keep his mind and body as steady as possible. He had to present an example of calm professionalism for his crew. "We'll talk later. Now, I don't want to discuss this subject any further in this setting."

Jack laughed sharply. "Of course you don't...because whatever you did caused me to switch places with some other guy, in some other universe for _thirteen_ years. That's a long time," said Jack. "A hell of a long time to be without my wife and son."

Wesley dropped his forehead into his hand, and Beverly put a supportive hand on his back. Troi observed the anguish in the faces of Beverly and Wesley closely, and focused on their minds. She found with some level of shock that a sort of shroud covered their inner emotions. It was an extra layer of mystery she had never encountered before in the minds of either of her friends, and she wondered immediately at its source. She closed her eyes briefly and let her mind travel down the table. With the exception of Data of course, this cloud pervaded the atmosphere of the table, interfering with her ability to connect empathically. The cloud appeared to be heavier around the minds of Beverly, Wesley, and the Captain, however others in the room were also open to its influence. And at the center of this strange fog, sat Jack Crusher, untouched. Troi opened her eyes again, with a growing sense of alarm.

Again an awkward silence descended on the room. Picard pushed his chair back slightly and looked down at his reflection on the table, unable and unwilling for the moment to say anything more in response to his old friend's accusations. Had he caused the explosion? Had it been his actions or inaction that night caused Jack to transfer into a parallel universe, into thirteen years of captivity? He'd always blamed himself for Jack's death, but mainly because he hadn't reached his friend sooner. Because he could have made smarter choices. If only Jack had listened to him, and had left the platform when he had called out to him, he would have been out of immediate danger. But Jack had been trying to free the ship, and had been able to do so, only after making the ultimate sacrifice. Facing the guilt over Jack's death for years, he now understood had been nothing compared to facing his friend in person now. _He blames me._

 _And so does Beverly._ He allowed himself a daring glance at Beverly, but to his increasing dismay, she bit her bottom lip and looked away from him. _Those things we shared just one night ago, and this morning...did they mean anything?_ He almost wanted them to be meaningless, because for all he knew, they meant nothing to Beverly. She was with Jack again. Had he truly expected her to begin a relationship with him, now that Jack had returned? They had ignited a spark between them that had lay dormant for years, and for what? A few moments of pleasure had already turned into confusion and pain. And while the pleasure had been fleeting, he felt the pain sinking in deep now. It was here to stay.

It was Counselor Troi who spoke next, breaking the uncomfortable silence. To an empath, the pall that had fallen over the room was far more than just uncomfortable, and it was in her interest as much as everyone else's, to try and improve the overall mood in that room. "I agree with Captain Picard. This is a personal conversation that is more appropriately discussed outside of this meeting. Of course, I would be happy to facilitate a discussion between you and the captain, Jack," she offered.

 _Wow, she can facilitate anything she wants with me..._

Troi had momentarily glanced at Picard, but she swiveled her attention back to Jack instantly, just after his thoughts came to mind.

Jack froze when he saw the silent reaction Troi exhibited in response to his thoughts. _Uh oh...she's a telepath? This isn't your first encounter with one...stay calm..._

Deanna continued to watch him placidly, but there was a clear change in her gaze. The sympathy, which had seemed genuine, was no longer there. She flicked her gaze to Beverly, and then back to Jack. He gave her a little smile, but she merely arched an elegant eyebrow at him. _Or maybe just an empath. Can't quite read my mind, can you? Doesn't matter though, it's exit time._

"Um...okay," Jack said out loud. "We can talk later, Jean-Luc."

Picard nodded.

Very abruptly, Wesley got up from his seat.

Riker looked at the teen quizzically. "Mr. Crusher?"

"Permission to...to leave sir," the teen said rather unsteadily. He looked furtively around at the other officers, with a mortified expression.

"Yes, of course, Mr. Crusher," Picard said quietly.

 _Great timing, kid._ Jack stood up too, carefully keeping his gaze from Troi. "My son's upset," he said, putting a hand on Wesley's shoulder. "And, I have to admit all this talk about my time with the Terrans is...difficult for me. So I'd like to leave as well."

Picard hesitated. "Jack, I'm sorry but we need you to stay a bit longer. We need to know who these people are who held you captive, if we are expected to encounter them in just a matter of hours."

"Didn't Naguchi give you a report about the Terrans?"

"Yes, and it was completely vague," interjected Riker. "We have no idea whether we will be meeting alternate versions of ourselves at these coordinates. Do _you_ , Jack?"

Jack smiled oddly. "What, you mean like another Will Riker? I don't know..." _You egotistical bastard..._

"So there was no Commander Riker on the ship you were held captive on?" Troi questioned.

Jack's smile faded and he shook his head. "No, I wasn't familiar with anyone by that name until I met him," he said, nodding toward Riker.

"But then surely you can tell us what to expect from the mirror version of Captain Picard," said Captain Louvois.

Jack glared down at her, as she regarded him smugly from her chair. "That conversation was off the record, _Phil_."

"Nothing is off the record when you're speaking with a superior officer, _Commander_ ," she said. "You told me you had met Captain Picard in the alternate universe. You even said Jean-Luc is the same in any universe, or something to that effect."

Picard's left thumb began to twitch again, and he grabbed it with his other hand, clasping it tightly. He noticed Beverly looking at him closely for the first time during the meeting. For an instant he was compelled to blurt something out. To say something only the two of them would understand just so that he could have something of that connection again. Because he needed Beverly's friendship at that moment, when Louvois' simple words threatened to turn the universe as he knew it, inside out. _Another me, in another universe..._ Beverly moved her lips, still watching him, but no sound came out.

"Jack, is this true?" Picard forced himself to say.

Jack licked his lips, but didn't look at Picard. "That's right."

 _For the first time during this meeting, Jack is genuinely nervous,_ thought Troi. _He fears exposure. But from what?_

"And so if you never left the ship you were on for thirteen years, that must mean that Captain Picard was on board as well. And so it follows that this ship we're looking for is the mirror _Enterprise,"_ Louvois persisted. "Or... is it the _Stargazer_?" She asked.

The room fell deathly silent.

Jack shook his head. "I don't know..."

Staring daggers at Louvois, Beverly stood up alongside Jack, and Wesley. "My husband has been presumed dead and missing for thirteen years. He's just returned. Now if you think I am going to let anyone interrogate him, you are mistaken," she said sharply. "I would like permission to leave as well, Captain," she said, turning to Picard and speaking more softly. But she didn't meet his eyes.

"That's fine," he said trying to offer her a small smile. He stood up, but she walked past him as if he was a stranger, making him feel like he'd been struck by a cold blast of wind.

To Picard's surprise, Jack pulled him into an embrace. He heard Jack's whisper in his ear. "Jean-Luc...I already know about the baby."

Picard stiffened, and tried to pull back, but Jack held him tightly, and he didn't want to make a scene. "Don't worry, I don't have a problem with it. She told me you two aren't together. Which is a good thing, since she's married to me, don't you think?" Jack pulled back and finally let Picard go, clapping him once on the shoulder, before moving away.

Thrown momentarily for a loop, Picard recovered quickly, and called after his friend. "If you believe the conditions to transfer into this...mirror universe can be created, we _will_ need your cooperation, Jack. I will need to ask you to consult with Mr. LaForge, and Mr. Data when the time comes."

"Sure," said Jack taking Beverly's hand and heading through the doors. "Whatever you need Jean-Luc."

* * *

 ** _MIRROR UNIVERSE_**

Commander William T. Riker walked around the back of the bridge, making his usual rounds. He stopped to observe members of the crew at their posts, at times quietly speaking to them. He conducted his walk around in a seemingly random manner, but for those who were familiar with Commander William Riker, this was hardly random. He was calling in favors, making deals, breaking deals, handing out discipline, strengthening alliances, breaking alliances, and most importantly, he was keeping order among the crew. All the while displaying only the most charming of dispositions. It was his role, and he loved it. Picard had no interest in such matters, and so relied on Riker to keep the crew both working, and in fear.

Riker halted and watched the captain from a safe distance. The arrogant posture, the disdain for those around him, the impenetrable emotional state, had all defined Picard's current run as Captain of the _ISS Enterprise_ , and if certain changes within the Empire had not recently occurred, his reign as captain of the flagship would no doubt continue unthreatened. Riker would have celebrated Picard's downfall on any day of course, but since his own career and life were also in serious doubt, he needed to ally with Picard, perhaps now more than ever. Riker's plans with Troi required Picard's signature cunning, and of course his ship to execute the plan. Once the plan had finished, he and Troi could disappear into the other universe and ultimately be free to live how they wanted.

Riker knew that Picard had no interest in leaving the Terran Empire, because in it, he was a powerful and feared figure. His counterpart in the other universe, no doubt, was a pathetic weakling with very few executions to his name. Picard's disinterest in anything but escaping death by Beverly Crusher, was to Riker's advantage. The captain probably suspected that Riker wanted his ship, and this suspicion actually played into Riker's plans. But the less help Picard had in determining Riker and Troi's true intent, the better. And that is why he had no long-term use for those loyal to the captain.

Riker strolled casually over to Yar, who was unequivocally one of those loyal to Picard. "Ready for our little moment of truth, Lieutenant? We're about to make history, you know."

"Yes sir. Whatever the captain needs, when the time comes I'll be ready," she said, not looking up from her tactical display. Yes, Riker outranked her, but Picard outranked Riker, and she was loyal to the captain alone. She knew this irked Riker to no end. She straightened at her post. She didn't need him for an enemy. She had known some of those who had crossed him, and then she had seen those same officers die painfully. She had long ago learned Riker enjoyed being asked for his advice, and was savvy enough to know she should stay on his good side-she'd heard he really did have one. "Do you think he will allow me to give him a weapons assist during the battle with the other _Enterprise_ , sir?"

Riker laughed and then leaned his elbow on her shoulder with exaggerated friendliness. He lowered his voice. "No chance Picard will allow you even a portion of his glory in battle, Yar." He moved away with a chuckle. "Yar...always trying to get some action," he said knowingly. "I understand the ambition, but if you're smart you'll use me as an example and save your ambition for the ladies," he advised her.

Yar smiled back at him, doing her best to convey her appreciation of his advice. "I will, sir."

"Just keep your hands off Troi," he quickly added, turning back to glare at her. "But then... she's out of your league anyway, Natasha."

Yar turned her attention back to her console. _And I value my life, such as it is,_ she thought.

She could feel Riker continuing to eye her, and noted he seemed more on edge than he usually did. This made him unpredictable and more than occasionally dangerous. Suddenly Riker spoke up, loud enough for the captain to hear him.

"Lieutenant," he barked.

"Yes, sir?" she said.

"Where's Crusher?"

Yar squared her shoulders and turned halfway from her post. "Sir, I assume he's still in the Booth." She swallowed and glanced over at the Captain, who had not turned to look at them, but she knew he was listening.

"You _assume_? Lieutenant, that doesn't sound very convincing. You know the Captain doesn't want Ensign Crusher making trouble."

"Yes sir. I'll go and check his status, sir," she said. "With permission," she added.

Riker nodded curtly. "You do that. Dismissed."

Yar gave him the standard salute and left the bridge quickly.

* * *

Picard was questioning his motives before he even stepped down the ramp. "What are you up to, Riker?" he drawled.

Riker walked over and leaned his hand on the back of Picard's command chair. The captain's personal force field was down for the moment, and Riker liked to make his presence known. He leaned in with a low voice. "You need to drop Yar," he said.

Picard was studying a data pad, and put it down with a click. He pulled a small but sharp knife from his belt, and held it up, appearing to study it closely. "You have three seconds to remove your hand from my chair, before I cut off as many fingers, and demote you to Number Two."

Riker took a few steps a safe distance away from Picard. "Aye sir..."

"That's better...now, why would I want to drop Yar from our little alliance, as you suggest?"

"Once we've obtained our decoys from the other _Enterprise_ , her usefulness will decrease significantly."

Picard shrugged. "She's not useful to you, she's useful to me, so why do you _care_ so much, Riker?"

Riker sat down nearby. "Captain, it won't take her long to realize she has no decoy, and therefore no counterpart in their universe. And then, she's a wild card. Besides, Troi said, she really can't be trusted."

"Ah...Troi." A devilish look crossed the Captain's face. Picard tapped his temple and looked up at Riker slyly. "The trick is to not let her inside here, Billy my boy. Because once you do...you're done for. And you _are_ done for."

Riker's eyes narrowed. It had for some years been rumored that Picard's skull was protected by a duranium shield, making him even less susceptible to mind probes, and more difficult to kill with an Agonizer, or worse, the dreaded Agony Booth. However, Riker knew the true story was slightly different. It hadn't taken long for Troi to figure it out when Picard had a duranium-based implant inserted in his head. Whatever its nature, it prevented her from reading Picard's already closely protected thoughts. While this may have hampered Troi's mind snooping, Riker was glad...because this meant that Picard perceived Troi, and therefore Riker, as threats to his power.

"Sir, your point is well taken, but we have to stay on guard. If anything goes wrong, she'll find out-"

"I don't want to hear about her!" Picard roared, slamming his fist down onto his arm rest. "Not one more word about _her_ on _my_ bridge, dammit!"

"Captain, incoming message from Admiral Crusher," interrupted the communications officer.

It made Riker's heart soar to see Picard's face grow pale, if for just one moment, but he kept an expert poker face.

"Put it on screen," he heard Picard mumble.

Immediately Beverly Crusher's image appeared on the screen. Her red hair was pulled back in a severe looking bun of some kind. Picard blinked, distracted. "Captain," she said with a lift of her eyebrow.

"Doct-Admiral," he managed to correct himself before committing a professional mistake. "To what do we owe this pleasure?"

Admiral Crusher laughed. "The same old lines, Captain. I wish I could say I missed them, but I don't. Since my promotion, I've been too busy to even think about you and your tiny, paltry, insignificant little ship," she said coldly. "Does that bother you, Captain?"

Picard inhaled deeply and shook his head. It did, it really bothered him. "No, sir."

"You have an opportunity to be a part of the Emperor's New initiative, Captain. I am sure that makes you very excited; ambitious man that you are."

 _This is absolutely the trap she has been planning all along. I can't refuse her order, which is why I must execute my plans without delay,_ he thought furiously. "The Emperor's initiative, sir?"

Crusher smiled tightly. "You'll have to come to Earth if you want in. Let me be your escort. Rendezvous with my ship the _Contagion_ in 72 hours, at the coordinates I am transmitting right now."

"Yes, Admiral," he said standing up and snapping a salute from his chest.

Riker noted that the beautiful chilliness of her smile really translated well through the view screen. "Emperor Data will be pleased," she said.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 16**

* * *

 _ **Mirror: ISS Enterprise**_

Deanna Troi stalked through the corridors of the _Enterprise_ as though she owned it. And as far as most people were concerned, she did. Yes, Picard was in charge, and ruled with an iron fist. But often enough, she was the agent of his discipline. It was she who truly kept these simpletons in line.

And soon enough, she would have her own fleet of ships to command. Of course Riker would come along for the ride, as it were. Riker was always looking for a good time, and always brought a good time with him wherever he went. But Troi had real plans. She would rule in the other universe, as she hadn't been able to here. She could care less if the other Troi survived or didn't. Emperor Spock had figured out almost one hundred years ago that a double from one universe could survive in the other. One didn't _have_ to swap places with one's counterpart-of course unless one wanted to.

Spock had learned so much, had been so fascinated with the other universe, or the Lesser Universe, as he had called it, that he had built stations throughout all four quadrants for the purpose of studying the inhabitants, their customs, and technology. These Ion Bases served as observation stations, and the jumping off points of just a few experimental voyages into the Lesser Universe. Despite their ingenious purpose, they had been heavily underutilized over the years. At least until now. Troi and her away teams had wreaked havoc over the last few months doing everything from stealing ships to attacking outposts. It was mostly practice of course, although the ships would come in handy-as would the hostages, assuming they were still alive. And she had managed to do it all without Picard knowing a thing. That was why she didn't need Picard. At least, not for much longer.

Picard had his positive attributes, of course. She had no intention of killing him, and to be honest was more than fond of him. But he had reached the end of his power, and she was on the rise. For now she and Riker would continue to allow him to believe they were on his side against Crusher. Picard, always obsessed with that woman, was convinced she intended to introduce a deadly virus on board the flagship, among other places. Most likely Picard was right, and had a clever plan to capture his counterpart, as well as that of Troi and Riker from the Lesser Universe. Once planted, Crusher would be fooled, Picard, Troi, and Riker would temporarily slip away, and the decoys would perish from her manufactured disease instead. Picard would then re-emerge at the time of his choosing. Either way Troi and Riker would be safe, because they intended to depart before Picard even carried through his plan. Then she would be off of this damn ship and into the Lesser Universe without a care.

* * *

Finally she reached her destination. There were still details to be finalized. One single member of security stood outside of the Agony Booth guarding it like the dutiful officer that she was. There was no living counterpart for the young woman in the Lesser Universe, but of course, she hadn't a clue. As a result, she, and many others would die at Crusher's viral hand. Why Picard had bothered to keep Yar around up until now, was beyond her. Troi sidled up to Yar confidently.

"I don't hear any screams, Lieutenant," Troi said sounding legitimately disappointed.

"Commander Riker wanted me to make sure Crusher was still in there, not to run the thing," Yar said sourly.

Troi circled her. The young woman's eyes followed the counselor warily, but she didn't move an inch. " _So_ sarcastic. It doesn't bother you that I could kill you without putting a hand on you?"

Yar swallowed. "I know you won't."

"Because you're Picard's little pet?" Troi sneered.

Yar smiled just a little bit, but said nothing. Troi could read her mind, twist it in unspeakable ways if she wanted. And as she had mentioned, she could even kill with a thought. So there was no need to give her any additional ammunition by speaking.

She moved in close to Yar's ear. "Or maybe you would enjoy it if I put my hands on you. Is that the case?"

"Whatever you say, sir. You can read my mind after all," Yar said, keeping her voice as calm as possible.

Troi sighed and stepped away. "Enough chit chat, open up the Booth," she demanded.

Yar hesitated, wondering if the captain would approve. It was the wrong move. Once Troi had given an order, it was foolish not to obey immediately. _Move!_ She staggered to the side from the pain of the sudden intrusion into her mind.

Troi glided past her without another word, and activated the door lock. She stepped inside the Booth as she had done hundreds of other times. Only this time, the occupant may actually have been relieved to see her.

Young Wesley Crusher hung limply, suspended in the anti-gravity of the inner chamber of the Agony Booth. "Snap out of it," Troi jeered. "You've got work to do, Crusher."

Wesley lifted his head with some effort to look at her. A string of drool dropped from his lips, and immediately formed a floating bubble. "What do you mean?"

She put her index finger under his chin and lifted it up with surprising gentleness. "Is the runabout ready or not? And it had better have warp seven at least. You know what I want to hear, Wesley."

"It's a go," he said hoarsely.

* * *

 **Prime: _USS Enterprise_**

Wesley stooped over the engineering console. His back was growing stiff, and his mind was hardly focused, but it didn't matter: with five hours left until they reached the designated coordinates, they had to continue working. "Try it now," he said over his shoulder.

There was a flurry of quick movements out of the corner of his eye, as Data's hands adjusted the phase modulator.

"Uh-uh," Geordi chimed in from underneath a floating generator. "Wait!" He pushed himself out for a moment to look up at Data, carefully avoiding bumping his head. "I'm going to have to boost the power on the modulator...otherwise we won't get an accurate reading as to whether this is even going to work once we reach the coordinates."

Data merely gave him a nod, and LaForge pulled himself back under his workspace. "Cramped under here," he complained to no one in particular.

Wesley turned at the sound of footsteps.

"How is the work coming?" asked Counselor Troi, halting nearby.

Wesley smoothed out his uniform and stood up straighter. "Oh...hi, counselor." He shrugged. "Okay I guess."

"May I ask exactly what you are trying to accomplish?" She clasped her hands behind her back with a look of genuine interest. While she was truly interested to see what progress the Captain's orders had inspired, she was more concerned that Wesley Crusher might be having some difficulties following a tense staff meeting. And she also wanted to see if that strange cloud in his mind was still present.

"We're trying to recreate the conditions that transported my father into the mirror universe," said Wesley. "Except it's risky even for a test, so we've got it enclosed in this protective field here," he said walking over to a strange looking compartment. To Troi it looked a lot like a simple storage capsule.

"It's all in there?" She pointed at the unassuming grey box.

"Yep," Geordi said from underneath, tapping on something with a hyperspanner. "Wes is monitoring the status of the two bubbles."

"Bubbles?"

Geordi twisted his body up and out of the small space and got to his feet. Troi frowned in order to keep from smiling at the engineer's disheveled appearance.

"Well, technically they're very small subspace fields," he said, pulling down his uniform top and wiping a hand over his hair. "And Data...well he's...multitasking over there. Right Data?"

"That is an apt description for the programs presently running in my sub processor relays, Geordi," said the android.

"Right now he's controlling the fields, and ensuring they don't collide," continued LaForge. "Later he will introduce a simulated transporter beam over one of the subspace fields, and then add some interference just to see whether there's any change in the relationship between the two fields."

"Oh," said Troi. "And this?" She pointed at the floating generator.

"Well, I am trying to modify the power situation so that we have enough power for our little experiment, but not so much that we create a nasty warp bubble in the middle of Engineering."

"That would be bad," Wesley agreed, moving back to his station.

"So you're simulating the two parallel universes," said Troi, walk around the box slowly.

"That is correct," said Data. "We have created two temporary separate subspace fields inside the test area. One represents the prime universe, in which we exist, and the other is the so-called mirror universe. In theory they exist parallel to one another, on separate dimensional planes."

"But it's possible to get them to overlap?" Asked Troi.

"Kind of," LaForge said slowly. He placed his palms together. "If two parallel universes collide or overlap, well...I'm not sure I would want to be there when that happened. So, it's safer to find a medium to travel between the two."

"That's what Captain Picard did when he boosted the transporter coordinates thirteen years ago," said Wes. There was a slight edge to his voice, and Troi could sense immediately the core of the struggle the young man was facing. He was conflicted, guilty for his anger at Captain Picard and confused by the re-emergence of his father, whom in his heart he desperately wanted to believe in; but his sharp intellect was struggling with the vague explanations of Jack Crusher.

LaForge scratched the back of his head. "Um...yeah, in theory."

Wesley frowned. "If this works, it's not just a _theory_ , Geordi. We'll be able to cross over into another universe, just like my dad did-twice."

LaForge glanced at Troi, who was watching the teen closely. LaForge wasn't interested in upsetting his young friend further, but he didn't exactly believe that Captain Picard had on his own, caused Jack Crusher to transfer into the mirror universe. He was also having a hard time believing they had identical counterparts waiting for them at the coordinates Wesley's father had identified. Of course stranger things had happened.

Wesley's expression grew more angry. " _What_?" He looked at Troi and Data, who had momentarily paused what he was doing. "Look, I get it. None of you believe my dad."

"Wes..." Geordi shook his head. "It's not that simple. It's just hard to believe that Captain Picard could have managed to do that all on his own, _by accident_."

"Wesley," Data said. "Geordi is right. The odds are three hundred twenty-one to one, that the Captain could have unintentionally created such an occurrence. There are approximately two thousand other factors that could have caused Lt. Commander Crusher to transfer to a parallel universe."

"Including a transporter beam disruption during an ion storm," Wesley nearly shouted. "Just like what happened to the original _Enterprise_ crew, just like you told me about, Data."

"But they weren't beaming up," said LaForge. "The Captain just boosting the coordinates wouldn't have been enough to create the transfer, in my opinion. If a transport was underway though, that _might_ have been enough."

Wesley shook his head. His expression was now closed off. Troi could sense he felt his father's version of events was under attack, and this was affecting him immensely.

"Maybe you should take a break, Wesley," Troi ventured. She could again sense the cloud she had encountered during the staff meeting. It was surrounding Wesley's mind like a protective shield. It was not nearly as strong as it had been during the meeting, but nevertheless it was there. And it shouldn't have been.

He shook his head again. "No, I don't want to take a break, I want to finish what we started here."

Troi smiled. "Of course," she said. "I'll leave you to it then."

LaForge watched as she walked away, before turning back to the Ensign. "She's only trying to help you out, Wes. You've been under a lot of stress. Now the Captain is going to come down here in a few hours and want a progress report. Do you think you'll be able to handle that?"

"Yes," said Wesley through gritted teeth.

LaForge clapped his hands together. "Okay then, let's get back to work."

* * *

Jack looked around the dimly lit lounge. The large windows showed the stars streaking by. _Nice view_... It was rare that he had been on a starship, and never one like this. _Traveling in style._ It wasn't exactly the kind of intergalactic dive bar he was used to, but it would do. He strolled over to the bar, behind which a woman with a large hat was methodically wiping down all surfaces with a small cloth.

He settled down on a stool nearby and gave her a little wave. "Hey bartender," he called her over.

She seemed to glide over to him. "What can I get you, stranger?" she asked.

"How do you know I'm a stranger?"

"Because I've never seen you before," she said calmly.

"And you know everyone on this ship?"

She smiled. "Yes."

"Hmm. Okay, well I'm Jack. And you are?"

"Guinan," she said. "What can I get you...or did you come to talk?"

He shrugged. "I'll have a Denubian cocktail," he said.

She winked at him. "Coming right up." She turned around and turned back in less than five seconds. Almost immediately his drink was sitting in front of him.

He looked at it skeptically for a moment, remembering he was on a starship where there were rules. "Not synthehol, is it?"

"No," she said. "I got the impression you were looking for something more authentic."

He sighed happily, and wrapped his hand around the glass of clear liquid. "My favorite," he said bringing it up to his lips.

"Really? Captain Picard always told me you preferred Chimerian ales..."

Jack froze. "I thought you didn't know who I was?"

Guinan leaned on the bar. "Well, you introduced yourself as 'Jack' and there _has_ been a rumor going around the ship that Jack Crusher has returned from the dead," she said, lowering her voice. "So, I put two and two together."

Jack took a long sip. "Oh, right...you know Jean-Luc. After all, you know everyone on this ship, right?"

She shrugged and turned to put some glasses away. When she turned back around her expression was different. Not threatening, but something made him feel that he had no choice but to take her seriously. "Captain Picard and I go way back."

"So far back that you don't even call him by his first name?"

"Yes, _that_ far back."

"Well, Jean-Luc and I go pretty far back too, but I don't remember him ever mentioning you," Jack said, trying to sound casual.

Guinan leaned against the bar, and finished wiping down a glass. "He's very discreet. That's just one of the things I respect about him. Of course, he did mention you once or twice. He really cares about you."

Jack downed the rest of his drink. He glanced around Ten Forward, eager to change the subject. "Not exactly a hopping place."

"I can imagine most of the officers are at their posts right now, or preparing for what's to come." Guinan fixed him with a steady stare.

Jack clasped his hands together in front of him on the bar and offered her a self-assured grin. "And what exactly do you think is coming?"

She tilted her head. "There's a rumor going around that _you_ are the only one who really knows the answer to that question." "But between you and me...you really have no idea what we're headed for, do you, Jack?" She smiled knowingly and said his name in such a way that his own smile faded in response.

* * *

Jean-Luc hesitated outside of Beverly's quarters before hitting the door chime.

The door hissed open, and they stood there silently regarding each other for a few tense moments. "Are you looking for Jack?" Beverly stayed in the shadows. "He's not here at the moment," she said.

"I'm not here to see Jack," he said, his voice breaking unexpectedly with emotion.

"Jean-Luc, you shouldn't be here." She shook her head and remained safely inside her quarters.

He leaned his hand against the doorway. "Then shut the door in my face, Beverly. If that is what you want."

"You know I won't do that...even after what I heard today."

"Those things that Jack said-"

"He told Wesley and me everything, Jean-Luc. Why didn't you ever tell me what happened to him that night? To both of you? I would have listened to you."

"I-I couldn't even think about those things for years. I felt so guilty. Now...when I'm near Jack I almost believe that I did those things, Beverly, but I need to tell you, that it didn't happen that way-"

"Jack doesn't blame you, and neither do I, Jean-Luc. Whatever happened, it was an accident. He's back now, and we all need to just move on."

"No, Jack does blame me. I know he does. And so do you, I can see it in your eyes."

She moved closer to the doorway where his palm still touched the wall and placed her hand over his.

"You're wrong," she said. "And I wish you wouldn't look into my eyes."

"Why?"

"I'm the one who should feel guilty right now."

She looked down, but left her hand on his. When she looked up at him her eyes shone with emotion. He glanced behind him, but thankfully the corridor was still empty. "I'm...confused," she said. "When Jack is with me, I love him very much, and the only thing I want is to be with him. But now, you're here, and I feel as though Jack is not really here with us. That maybe this is all a dream, and I don't know what to do."

He gripped her hand and moved closer, bringing his other hand up to caress her face. She shook her head and moved away, letting go of his hand. "I can't do this with you. Not like this, I'm sorry."

He stepped back stoically and pulled the hem of his uniform jacket down. "Right. Of course."

She smiled at his characteristic gesture, somehow comforted that not everything had changed in the last 48 hours. She motioned for him to stand still. "Wait here," she said.

He obliged, and leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. Two crew members passed by staring at him curiously, but he stared numbly down at the deck.

About a minute later, Beverly arrived with Jeanette in her arms. The baby was mumbling sleepily, and Beverly handed her to him. Her scent was so familiar to him now, that he was instantly calmed. He hugged her to him gently, warmed by the soft skin of her cheek. He turned his head to look at Beverly. "Thank you." She reached out to touch his arm, and he shut his eyes tightly.

* * *

He'd soon had enough of Guinan's cryptic messages. Was she onto him? It was possible, but in a matter of hours, it wouldn't matter. He had eventually left the lounge somewhat unsteadily, having drunk five Denubian cocktails. The result was always the same. He was drunk. But not too drunk that he didn't want some clarification from his sponsor. When he arrived back at his quarters he fell onto his bed and immediately sent a transmission.

 _"Good timing Jack. I need to speak to you.'_

"The thought was mutual, obviously."

 _"Are you drunk?"_ The tone was one of amusement for once.

"A little," admitted Jack, who was far from amused. Drunk, but not amused.

" _There have been complications."_

"Complications? What's that mean?"

" _First off, I need Picard dead. And soon."_

"Wait a minute...I thought Picard dying was optional. Besides I think I'm starting to kind of like that self righteous prick."

" _Get over your affections. I want him dead before you arrive at the coordinates."_

Jack wiped a hand over his face. This was getting to be too much. "Is my transport ready? As soon as we reach the coordinates my job is done. I'm outta here."

The figure on the small screen grew still.

"Right? My job is done, boss," Jack repeated. "I need off of this sweet ship, and quick."

" _I told you there were complications, Jack. I can't guarantee you a transport off the ship at those coordinates, anymore."_

"Why?"

 _"That's not your concern."_

"The hell it isn't!"

 _"The game might take a bit longer, that's all."_

Jack stumbled up off his bed and pointed into the view screen. "What the f-"

" _Jack...now don't panic, my friend."_

"Oh, _now_ we're friends? You..."

 _"M!"_

"Huh?" He hadn't heard his own name spoken in some time.

" _This is nothing but a job. Are you a professional or not?"_

Jack sniffed in. "Yeah, 'course I am. You want Picard dead, I'll do him, but there's got to be more in it for me once we're done."

" _Those weren't the terms we agreed to."_ There was a pause, and the shadowy figure shifted on the screen. " _Fine. Just take care of business."_

* * *

Jack sat in the cramped guest quarters a little longer, mulling it all over. Eventually he pulled a small knife out of his boot. He didn't want to kill Picard, but business was business. And in the kind of business he was in, there was always the potential for this kind of thing. But the bartender's words still haunted him. She was right, he had no idea what would happen when they reached the coordinates in just several hours now. No idea, and yet he was going to go through with the plan like a blind fool. He was beginning to doubt whether he would even get paid. But more than that, if he followed through and did what the Boss wanted, Picard would be dead, and the entire crew would be looking for his killer. And it was now looking like he would have to hang on longer just to find a way off of the ship.

"Safest way is to make it look like an accident," he muttered to himself. He snapped his fingers, as a thought came to him. The Boss had forbidden him to communicate with anyone else through subspace, but he had ways around that. He knew who to call. He tapped in a masked code quickly.

"Pots!" He couldn't help but grin when his rotund friend's face appeared on the screen. But his smile faded, because Pots was pale, looked like he was looking at a ghost. "What's wrong, man?"

"M! M...what, I thought-"

"You thought what?"

"I just talked to the Boss, M."

"And?"

"He told me to forget about you. He told me you were a dead man."

* * *

 **Hi, thanks for reading and reviewing. Happy MLK Day. -PP**


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 17**

* * *

"What are you talking about?" Jack shouted into the communication device attached to his wrist.

Pots rubbed his greasy face, and tossed away a tool he had been holding. "Listen M. The Boss contacted me to tell me the deal was off, and that wherever you were, to forget about you. He said there would be no way out for you."

"Well as you can see I'm alive and well." He went on to explain to his partner, that the Boss had ordered him to kill Picard before the ship reached the assigned coordinates. "He said that was the only way out for me. Only way I will get paid. But he's not sure he can get me off this ship at the coordinates, like originally planned."

"Must be that after you kill Picard, he'll have no use for you anymore."

"I thought all the Boss wanted was the _Enterprise_."

"Guess his plans have changed, just like he told you."

Jack laughed. "If his plans have changed, he's not happy about it. It means whatever he's doing right now, he's on the defensive. He doesn't have the upper hand and that means there's still room to negotiate. But I've got to take out Picard, or there's no deal."

"How are you going to take care of that problem?"

Jack shrugged and pulled out a tiny metallic device holding it up to his wrist viewer.

"That's a Ferengi weapon...used for assassinations. Do you even know how to use one of those?"

"Sort of... I just need to get close to him, swipe a sample of his pheromones."

"Ha, ha you sneaky sonofabitch...give him a big kiss or something."

"Right...imprint his sample on the device and _voila_ this little concussion charge will target him only. When this little thing goes off, it'll seem just like an accident. The problem is, I've got to be nearby to plant the thing. And we need to be in some action so it's not as suspicious."

"I have a feeling you and that ship are headed for some action. But, you realize you could kill a whole bunch of people with that thing...including yourself, if you don't set this up properly?"

"I'll do what I have to, Pots. I didn't come this far to stop now. "Anyway, it's risky, but..."

"I have faith in you, M."

Jack grinned.

Pots glanced away from the viewer, mulling it over. "The Boss told me not to worry...that you'd go quick." His eyes widened in realization. "M...you've got to get that implant thing out of your skull. He's going to flip a switch and just like that, boom, you'll be dead."

"How? As far as these people know what's in my head is the way to their missing ships. I won't be able to convince them to remove it."

"If you don't, you're dead. So I suggest you use your brain before you lose your brain."

* * *

"Thank you for agreeing to speak with me," said Phillipa Louvois. "The Vulcan Council had trouble tracking you down."

The elegant Vulcan on the other side of the transmission was expressionless. _"You have interrupted my meditation,"_ she said simply.

Louvois didn't bother with further niceties, which she knew very well would be wasted on T'Pel. "Then you'll appreciate me getting to the point," she said.

T'Pel regarded her with silent but open curiosity.

"Jack Crusher has...reappeared."

" _Reappeared,"_ said T'Pel carefully. " _You have seen him with your own eyes?"_

"Yes."

" _Then you have seen an apparition...or what humans would call a ghost, counselor. Jack Crusher has been dead for thirteen years."_

Louvois sighed inwardly. "He's alive and well."

T'Pel watched the human woman as closely as one could through a view screen. Like most Vulcans she had a very sharp memory, and it seemed very recent to her that Phillipa Louvois had prosecuted the court martial against Captain Picard when he lost the Stargazer to a surprise Ferengi attack. _"While such an occurrence seems highly unlikely, I admit I am curious, counselor."_

"I'm curious too," said Louvois. "Which is why I contacted you, T'Pel. You were there when it all happened. And you don't have to call me counselor. A lot has changed since the _Stargazer_ court martial thirteen years ago. I'm a captain now."

 _"I intended to communicate that I am curious about the reappearance of Jack Crusher, not your career path, Captain."_

 _Blunt as ever,_ thought Louvois. "Jack was found drifting in an unmarked derelict shuttle about a month ago. He claims that the night we all believed he was killed, he was instead transferred into a parallel universe, while his counterpart was transferred here. He also claims his counterpart from the parallel universe was the person who was killed that night, while he in turn was kept prisoner for thirteen years. During the last month, several of our ships and personnel have gone missing, and Jack and Starfleet Command seem to believe that our mirror counterparts are responsible."

" _I see,"_ said T'Pel impassively.

"That's it? I was hoping for some further insight..."

" _Where is Jack Crusher now?"_

"He's on board the _USS Enterprise_ , here with me."

T'Pel blinked. It was the closest thing to an emotional response the Vulcan would allow. " _Am I correct that Captain Picard is in command of that starship?"_

Louvois smiled. Now she was getting somewhere. "Yes, he is."

 _"Then I will speak with him in person."_

"That's not possible, T'Pel, we are headed into a potentially hazardous situation in just a few hours. Our only guide at this point, is Jack."

 _"All the more reason for me to confer with Captain Picard directly. Please arrange a transport for me within the next three hours. I must consult with the Vulcan Archivist before I depart."_

"What?" Louvois shook her head in confusion.

"I t _hank you for your call, Captain."_

* * *

Picard left his update in main engineering with a slight boost in confidence. Data, Wesley and LaForge had formulated a plan. Now it was his turn to build on that...to protect his crew. Wesley's face flashed in his mind. The boy was angry at him, it was clear he felt betrayed. And Jack...did he truly believe the things he had said about what had happened that fateful evening? And Beverly. How could he ever make these things right again? He tried to put the awkward feelings out of his mind and focus on the task at hand. And he became so focused that he nearly bumped into Jack, who was walking quickly in his direction-unsteadily.

He halted, holding his hands out. "Jack! Hold on, what is wrong?"

Jack slowed his almost frantic pace, but swayed. "Jean-Luc, my best buddy..."

Picard did a double-take. "Jack, are you drunk?" Sure enough the smell of some kind of exotic alcohol hovered around his old friend.

Jack lifted his arms. "Hey, look...I've been through a lot. I let your bartender get me drunk off my ass."

Jack moved closer and lowered his voice. "Look I'm sorry about the meeting. Guess I got carried away." He reached out and slapped his palm lightly against the side of Picard's neck, and held it there a moment. _That'll do. Got me a sample of essence de Picard._

Picard nodded and smiled. "It's alright. I'm on my way to a meeting, but perhaps we can talk later when things quiet down a bit. I'd like to catch up, Jack...I mean that. For the moment, you should rest awhile."

Picard passed by him, but turned back around. "Oh, and Jack...I will need you up on the bridge when we reach the coordinates in few hours. We'll need your guidance."

Jack grinned. "Sure thing, Jean-Luc."

* * *

"I trust your judgment, Captain," said Admiral Nechayev through the viewer.

"Admiral, my judgment is blind in this situation. I simply have no experience to draw from."

"Then I trust your instincts, which are better than the next man's good judgment."

"Thank you, sir."

"We're all in the dark on this Jean-Luc."

"And yet, you gave me a file, Alynna. Starfleet has known about this so called mirror universe for decades now. Why are _we_ still in the dark?"

"You sound as though you're accusing me of keeping it all under wraps, Captain. You give me more credit than I deserve. In fact Starfleet's fears about this mirror universe started long before our time. This is a dangerous series of events, and Captain Kirk and Commander Spock were right to urge silence on this topic so many years ago."

"But where has Starfleet's silence taken us, Admiral?"

"To this point in time, Captain. To the very intersection of our two universes, and of our conflicting cultural values. And not for the first time in these precarious situations, one wonders which side will win."

"Based on the earlier accounts, they are much like us, Admiral...however, they are more aggressive, more focused on acquiring territory through violence than pursuing scientific exploration."

"Not your style, I know, Captain."

He made a face. "I should say not." He crossed his arms. "Captain Kirk's report indicated that in this society, torture was common and promotion was generally achieved through assassination."

"At the same time," said Nechayev carefully, "Kirk reported that Commander Spock's counterpart in the Terran Empire was just as logical as Spock himself. Logical within a violent society, certainly, however the potential for change was there."

Picard shook his head but said nothing. "So then it's possible they have abandoned some of their more barbaric practices...but our information is so limited."

"Are you worried that there is a Jean-Luc Picard in the mirror universe, who may be responsible for our missing ships?"

"Based on Jack's few statements...yes, the thought had crossed my mind."

"And you can't fathom the concept of facing yourself, or someone who appears to be you."

Picard looked uncomfortable and didn't answer right away, so she continued. "I have no doubt that if this is the case, Captain, our side _will_ prevail. I have every faith in that."

"I will do my best, Admiral." _I'm not certain I share her confidence in this regard._

She paused. "How is Jack settling in?"

 _I knew she was going to ask me this._ "Captain Louvois told me she sent you an update, Admiral."

"I'd like to hear it from you, Jean-Luc."

He rubbed his brow tiredly. "He seems fine."

"What an elaborate explanation. Has he been any help to you on the missing officers?" she pressed.

"His knowledge of our counterparts in the mirror universe seems limited at best, probably due to his captivity," he said uncertainly. "In any case, we're no closer to anticipating what we'll find when we reach those coordinates. But if there is a way to find our officers and ships when we reach the coordinates Jack identified...we will find it, sir. My officers are working on the problem this very moment."

"So he's of no help at all," Nechayev clarified, sounding as if she was confirming the answers to her own questions. "I knew we were wrong to rest all of our hopes on Jack."

"Admiral, he's been away for thirteen years, and who knows what he's experienced?"

" _He_ knows, Captain. Is he telling his wife everything that's happened to him?"

Picard set his jaw, and averted his gaze, but said nothing. It made his heart ache to think of Beverly, and so he avoided doing so whenever possible.

Nechayev appeared to sympathize, but it remained unspoken between them that she would respect his privacy when it came to Dr. Crusher. "Point taken...well he's certainly not telling Captain Louvois anything of value. And he's not telling us, his oldest friends. Doesn't that bother you?"

"Admiral, I was expressly ordered by _you_ not to interrogate him...not to question his identity. Now, I've done my damnedest to follow those orders."

"And is it working? Do you believe he's Jack?"

He sighed and sat back in his chair. "Admiral, this subject is...well, it's complicated-"

She smiled tightly. "I'm not being fair to you, Captain, am I? I know it's difficult for us both to be objective when it comes to Jack."

He nodded. "Quite right, Admiral."

"May I ask you a rare personal question?"

He cleared his throat. "Do I have a choice?"

She laughed sharply, then leaned in toward the screen with as kind an expression as he had ever seen her convey. "How is your child, Jean-Luc?"

He didn't ask how she knew, but it occurred to him that the baby had been examined, tested, and she was now in the "system" as it were. Of course, she was not a secret, he reminded himself. "Very well, thank you. Her name is Jeanette, and she's very...spirited."

She smiled genuinely, but her stare was probing. He knew that for now she would ask no further questions about the baby's origins. "I'm very glad, and not in the least bit surprised. And how are you getting on with her mother?"

He folded his hands, somewhat taken aback by her question. He hesitated for an uncomfortable moment. "We're still on speaking terms," he finally said. "For the moment, I will take that."

"You are a wise man, Captain. Now...be safe."

* * *

Picard cradled his forehead in his hand for just a few minutes after his conversation with Admiral Nechayev. Soon enough, however, the door chime sounded. His eyes snapped open. "Come."

Riker entered looking perturbed. "Sir, Worf has three away teams prepared, heavily armed as you ordered. Still, I feel as though we're fumbling in the dark."

"We are, Number One," Picard admitted, getting to his feet. "We are. But unless we can figure ourselves a way to transfer our entire ship into a parallel universe, we'll operate in wait and see mode for the time being until we have a specific location of one of our missing ships. If we can send our away teams in then, we will."

Riker nodded. They would have to think very quickly. "As you know, Data, LaForge, and Ensign Crusher are finishing up their experiments in engineering. LaForge seems to think he can configure the transporter beam in such a way that it allows transfer to the parallel universe-assuming the mirror universe registers on our sensors."

"Data predicts it will be detectable as some kind of anomaly," said Picard. He walked over to the window and leaned his elbow against the wall. "Then we are as prepared as we will be. Not much longer now?"

"About two hours, sir."

* * *

" _Many thanks for your diligence, Phillipa,"_ said Admiral Nechayev. _"I have some news to share, but...you may go first."_

"It's T'Pel. She has information she's agreed to provide only to Captain Picard," said Louvois.

 _"I see."_

"She wants a Federation vessel to transport her to the Enterprise. I explained that our situation is precarious at the moment, but-"

" _I'll make it happen,"_ Nechayev said firmly.

Louvois nodded. "Understood, Admiral. Shall I inform the Captain to expect her arrival?"

 _"I can't guarantee that he will be happy to hear this information, but be my guest."_

Louvois smiled ruefully. "I'm not exactly Ms. Popularity around here, Admiral. I have no problem being the messenger, whether they want to hear the message or not."

" _They're still not letting you off the hook about that court martial from years ago? Pity. You were only doing your duty."_

Louvois shrugged. "It comes with the job, sir."

" _There's that can-do attitude I expect from you..."_

Louvois raised an eyebrow. "You have news to share, Admiral?"

" _Yes. I've heard back from our forensics team that they've finished examining the shuttle Jack was found in. The results were more than startling."_

"Oh?"

"Whomever put him in that shuttle did _an expert job wiping it clean, and removing most identifiers, but it is undeniably one of our own shuttles. Belongs to the missing USS Phoenix to be exact."_

"Damn."

 _"My initial thoughts, exactly, Captain. And that is why_ _I expect you to keep this to yourself right now. If it gets out that Jack knows more than he is telling us, then all hell could break loose aboard that ship."_

"Yes, sir."

* * *

"Of _course_ I'm not happy she's coming aboard," shouted Picard, throwing himself back into a chair. A few quiet moments alone in the main conference room had been recently interrupted by his colleague.

"Don't shoot the messenger," Phillipa said hotly.

He ran his hands over his head. "Well, what the hell did you say to her?"

"T'Pel made the decision to travel out here, and will be here in about five hours, thanks to it all being arranged for by Admiral Nechayev."

" _She's_ involved in this? Hasn't anyone considered that in five hours, we may be floating in some...some parallel universe-or this ship may be in battle? In any case, we won't want to be welcoming any visitors."

Phillipa sighed. "You're right of course...but nevertheless..."

Picard was still incredulous. "Why were you even contacting her in the first place?"

"You know I'm skeptical about Jack, and-"

"Wait a minute," he shook his head and pointed his index finger at her. "Are you telling me that this is about your investigation of Jack Crusher? Phillipa, this is inappropriate."

Louvois didn't try to hide her surprise at his obvious anger. "You seemed tolerant of my activities before I mentioned T'Pel. I certainly haven't been getting in your way! Is this about the fact that you and T'Pel were in a relationship?"

He laughed and pushed himself out of his chair and paced away. "I was not in a relationship with T'Pel. She was my subordinate."

"And you'd never be in a relationship with a subordinate, Jean-Luc? Come on."

He turned to look down at her. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Didn't you just have a baby with your CMO? For a man who would never be tied down by a relationship, and couldn't bear to be around children, I'm sure I'm not the only one who's shocked to learn that."

He glared down at her. "It's none of your damn business, Phillipa."

"Are we interrupting something?"

Picard and Louvois turned to see that Doctor Crusher and Doctor Selar had entered the conference room. Picard froze. How long had they been standing there? Selar looked as bored as ever, but Beverly's eyes held a familiar flash.

Louvois smiled slightly. "Oh no...just business."

Beverly shifted her gaze to Picard and asked, "Why would it be anything else?"

* * *

 **Hello, thanks for reading and reviewing. This is fun to write, so thanks for following. The next 1 or 2 chapters will have a bunch of action. Thanks, -PP**


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 18**

* * *

 **PRIME**

 _ **USS Enterprise**_

"We were just finishing, doctor...doctor," Picard clarified, looking from Beverly to Selar.

Phillipa rose to her feet unhurriedly. "I'll take that as my cue," she said, giving another backward glance as she left the room. Beverly watched her leave with very obvious animosity.

Picard sighed inwardly with relief. "Now, how may I help you?"

"I believe the more apt question, Captain, is how can we help you?" Selar said.

Picard shook his head in momentary confusion. "Pardon?"

Beverly took her data pad out of her pocket and waved it at him. "You asked us to report to you, sir. I have it right here in my calendar."

He blinked. How could he have forgotten? Of course, the list of things to keep track of was endless. He nodded, and attempted a small smile. "Of course, doctors...please have a seat. Please accept my apology."

"No problem at all, Captain. _Clearly_ you were distracted." Beverly sat down smoothly.

He let the shot pass by him safely without comment. He cleared his throat. "I'd value both your opinions on the potential medical effects on the crew...should this ship somehow be transferred into a parallel universe. Our away teams are one consideration, but in particular I don't wish to put the civilian crew at risk where I don't have to do so. And Dr. Selar, after reading your report about the man who died in sickbay, possibly at the hands of these Terrans, has me concerned about our chances against these nerve damaging weapons you described."

"To address your first point, Captain, the plans you forwarded us from the engineering team indicate they believe they can either create or control already existing ion interference during transport in such a way that transfer to the mirror universe would be possible. Is this correct?" Crusher eyed him seriously.

"Yes," he said. "Assuming the right conditions are present."

Beverly pulled out her tricorder and tapped at it for a few seconds, before looking up at him. "The problem with any significant disruption of a transporter beam is that the risks are that at the very least you risk a failed transport due to the weakened signal. In rare cases, a failed transport results in death, but given our modern safety protocols, the Chief can usually abort the transport safely on his end before the pattern begins to solidify at its destination."

"But if the transport is successful?"

"From there the risks are less clear," said Crusher. "Disorientation is not at all uncommon, and in most cases is easily treatable" she said. "Then there is always the possibility of encountering a time-space related disorientation that doesn't go away, and in fact grows progressively worse-similar to what we encountered in Dr. Manheim a few years ago. I would guess that even if the ship itself transfers into a separate universe, we could encounter some unexpected side effects. Unfortunately there are too many unknowns."

"But what about Jack? Did he suffer ill effects from transferring back to us a few weeks ago?"

"We were ordered not to run any tests on Lt. Commander Crusher, as Starfleet was apparently satisfied with his condition after examining him at the star base," said Selar. "However, those test results were negative for anything unusual, aside from the implant behind his right eye."

"Which for all we know protected him from any negative effects," said Picard.

"That would be mere speculation," Selar informed him plainly.

Picard nodded, knowing when he was being shut down by a Vulcan. "In any case, I would like to know how we can maximize safety during transport."

"After you called us earlier, I thought you might say that...so I made a few calculations," Beverly said handing him her tricorder.

He read it briefly before handing it back to her. "Good work, Doctor. Please transfer this information to LaForge and O'Brien."

She nodded, re-pocketing the tricorder, and glanced at Selar. "Doctor, did you have anything to add related to the man we attempted to rescue from the freighter?"

"Yes," said Selar. "The autopsy, as you both know, concluded that the human male from the freighter was brutally tortured. While most of the wounds made by a sharp knife or knives were superficial, he succumbed due to extensive nerve damage, particularly around his heart, weakening the organ and causing him to undergo cardiac arrest. This was caused by a nerve damaging weapon, as you mentioned earlier, Captain."

"Used at close range?"

"Unclear."

"Would there...would there be a way to guard against such a thing?"

Selar and Crusher exchanged glances. "Not completely," sad Crusher. "Certainly not with such limited information about how this weapon works."

"Unless a neural blocker could be modified in conjunction with a neural stimulant, allowing for some protection against pain, but avoiding loss of motor control," offered Selar.

Picard was surprised such a thing was possible. "Doctor Crusher, do you concur?"

Beverly squinted. "It's a creative theory...but in practice it may not work at all, and could even disable the person trying to use it for protection. We'll try," she agreed after a moment, though still appearing skeptical.

He smiled. "Very good then. Thank you both for your input. Dismissed."

Selar got up immediately, and walked quickly from the room. Beverly remained seated, and her expression changed subtly as she watched him.

"What is it, Doctor?"

"I hope you're being cautious, Jean-Luc."

He tugged at his uniform. "About...?"

"About Captain Louvois."

He frowned. "Now what?"

She laughed up at the ceiling. "You're really going to put me in this position, aren't you?"

"What position?"

Beverly flushed. "Of having to tell you outright how I feel about that woman. And then of course when I do, it just looks like I'm..."

 _She's jealous,_ he realized, when she hesitated. Of course there was no love lost between the two women, but he now realized that from Beverly's perspective, it was much more complicated than mere dislike.

"I don't trust her, Jean-Luc, and neither should you!"

"She was assigned to my ship, I certainly didn't ask for her presence here," he said, annoyed.

She shook her head and stood up, tapping her data pad on her thigh distractedly. "But you _are_ relying on her advice, aren't you?"

He looked up at her. "It is certainly within my discretion to do so, Beverly. After all she is my colleague, and quite skilled at reading people."

Beverly leaned down with her hands on the table and looked into his eyes. "After the way she treated you, I'm surprised you haven't yet realized that the only person she is reading is _you_ , Captain," she said in a low voice. "Let's hope that once she's done with that, she doesn't play you for a fool." She straightened as if to leave, but he stood up quickly and grabbed her hand.

She looked down in surprise, but didn't remove her hand from his. He felt a charge of electricity pass between them, as he moved closer. "Is that what you truly think of me, Beverly? That I'm a fool?"

She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Instead, she shook her head and moved closer, tightening her grip on his hand. He felt his anger transform deliciously into something else, as she kissed him.

* * *

 ** _MIRROR_**

 **On board the Imperial Medical Ship** ** _Contagion_** **...**

 _"Correction of personal weakness leads to personal improvement. The improved individual reaches perfection only through the collective. Cooperation with the collective is the way to success. Only through our collective perfection will we achieve galactic dominance."_

 _"Correction of-"_

"Shut that noise off! I won't have that computer droning on incessantly. I am _trying_ to think..."

"But Admiral, the the Em-Emperor requires that his Imperial d-declarations be played everyday at 1100 hours-"

"And I am ordering you to shut it off," Admiral Beverly Crusher snapped, tapping her short fingernails on the armrest.

"But if the Emperor-"

"Who's going to tell him?" She spun her command chair around to face the irritating communications officer. " _You_ , Mr. Barclay?"

"N-No, sir." The anxious officer backed up into the science station, inadvertently knocking into LaForge, who shoved him out of the way with an annoyed grunt. Barclay stumbled and fell to the deck, crawling back to his post.

"That's what I thought," she said, turning her seat back around to face the main viewer. Even seated in the center of the immense bridge, she struck a tall, imposing figure. She had taken recently to tying her long hair back in an elaborate bun, which made her cheekbones sharper, her expression more severe. There were few now in the Empire who did not fear her at least by reputation, and so her appearance served only to maintain an authentically intimidating persona.

Rank was rank, but she had no qualms about disobeying a directive of the Emperor, as long as she could trust that her crew was more afraid of her immediate wrath, than they were of Data's more distant, far-reaching power. For now, they would follow her. After all, she'd assassinated the most powerful admiral in the Fleet, to achieve her current position. Alynna Nechayev, most would agree, had had it coming to her for years. It was a matter of time until someone tried to take her out. But Crusher had been the one to succeed, exceeding everyone's expectations.

Still she already found herself to be restless. First of all, she could not abide the mindless propaganda that the Emperor had been spewing over the last few months. And she knew exactly why. It was Data's voice in the recording, but not his words. Data was Emperor, but did he still speak for himself? It was his new alliance with those automatons the Borg, which now threatened her own considerable pride, and she feared, the entire Terran Empire.

Many others were fooled by the rhetoric and awed by the impressive new technologies, but she was not. Crusher had no intention of living in a Terran Empire ruled by the Borg; however, many seemed to believe it was inevitable. But as the Borg repeated so frequently...resistance was futile. Even a fearsome Terran accustomed to bare aggression and violence had to admit those words could not be taken lightly.

"Admiral, we're nearing the Klingon sub-territory."

Crusher leaned forward confidently on the armrest of her command chair. It was just a matter of time until she had the answers she needed. If she could avoid major troubles, that is... "Go to impulse power," she said.

Geordi LaForge turned from his science station with his palm out. "Might I have a word, Admiral?" His tone was confident. There was no doubt of his value as an engineer, but he'd also seen an increase in his influence recently, with the ascension of Data to the Imperial throne. There was no one closer to Data than LaForge had been early in Data's career. But Crusher was not the only one who had noticed that now that Data was Emperor, LaForge was at risk of being all but left behind. Still, he made his connection to the Emperor known on an as needed basis, and it was what kept him safe for the time being, from most of the violence and in-fighting that plagued the regular officer corps.

Crusher turned her head slightly to see his glowing palm and fingertips aimed in her direction. It had been disconcerting at first: the white lights of the optical implants in LaForge's fingertips had expanded his ability to "see" far better than he had before his surgery-a surgery which of course she had performed. There was no better surgeon in the Empire, and every single Terran physician answered to her now. And she wouldn't hesitate to remind those who may have forgotten this reality. Recovery from a bad night in the Agony Booth was so much worse without adequate medical care. And let's face it, you were far less likely to survive an assassination when there was no physician available to pick up the pieces.

LaForge continued to utilize his Visor, but no longer needed it. Indeed with the new technology, he could see behind him, above him, and anywhere all at once. It meant among other things, that he was very difficult to assassinate-by conventional means, at least. She couldn't speak for anyone else, but for the moment, she had no intention of getting rid of LaForge. For one thing, he was one of the few last links to her son. Her ungrateful, genius, brat of a son...

She gave LaForge a brief nod, and he strolled to her side. "What?" she asked bluntly, not bothering to look at him.

Out of the corner of her eyes she saw him offer a charming smile; his brand new, sleeker Visor glinting in the bridge lights. "Not to question your authority Admiral..."

"Of course you wouldn't be such a fool to do that; now would you, LaForge?"

His smile widened, but he knew he was in dangerous territory. She didn't want to be challenged at the moment, but she didn't respect a timid man who backed down either, so... "No sir. As I was saying, we're not allowed to venture into the sub-territories without first consulting with the Emperor."

"Obviously I am aware of that rule, Commander LaForge. Are you accusing me of not consulting with the Emperor?"

Geordi's thousand watt smile wavered only slightly, as he considered whether or not to call her bluff. "No sir, of course not. I'm just looking out for you, that's all. I'm here for you, whenever you need me," he said softly. He rested his hand on the arm of her chair and she eyed him suspiciously.

Affection was generally viewed as weakness by Terran social standards, and she had certainly never asked anyone for affection. The fact that LaForge had offered himself to her upon her promotion to Admiral was if anything, a power move on his part. Yes, it had little to do with affection-for either of them-but the fact was, for now she enjoyed his company...

Geordi lowered his voice to just above a whisper. "You've been so busy lately, Admiral, I've been a little worried that you've found someone else to spend your evenings with."

She refused to match his suggestive smile, but her face warmed. "And if I have?"

"Then I hope you'll give me another chance to prove that I can fulfill your needs."

She leaned back in her chair still eyeing him. "I believe that I might give you that chance...but tell me something, first, Geordi."

"Anything," he said innocently.

"Why haven't you convinced my son to contact me?"

"Uh..." The smugness immediately fled his features.

She patted his hand. "Yes, you see my needs are more complicated than you seem to understand, Geordi. So if I were you, I would make more of an effort to re-establish your friendship with my son, instead of doing everything you can to distract me with your charms...such as they are."

LaForge took a slight step backward. He would never grow accustomed to her well aimed barbs, which for the moment were not so lighthearted. He tried to regain his cool. Wesley...t _hat damn kid is going to literally be the death of me one day._ "He...well he's run into some difficulty on board the _Enterprise_ , according to my sources."

"Picard will never give Wesley a break," said Crusher. "And who could expect him to? At every turn that boy is as cowardly as his father."

 _Oh boy_ , thought LaForge. _This never ends...Jack, Jean-Luc, Jack, Jean-Luc...the endless loop._

"And I suppose he may detest me now...but that is _no_ excuse for him to neglect his mother," she was continuing. Crusher glared at Geordi, apparently not entirely impressed with his self-described "sources".

"I have a question for my crew," Crusher suddenly announced to the bridge, standing up. Any hushed conversations stopped altogether.

"Has anyone on this bridge been in communication with my son in the last month or so?" She turned around slowly to view her officers, none of whom seemed anxious to step forward. "No one? Well...if you can convince him to contact me, there's a promotion in it for you. No assassinations necessary to move ahead, and no strings attached," she assured them.

She glared a moment longer at her wide-eyed crew before sitting back down. "Just don't abuse my generosity," she added over her shoulder. Seeing that LaForge was still standing nearby, she waved him away, now finding herself in an irritable mood.

Geordi recognized the look on her face, and knew better than to stick around; instead retreating back to his post.

Crusher stewed angrily. Just thinking of the combination of her ungrateful son and her two scheming exes just made her blood boil. Picard was on his way to meet her in the next three days, and she hadn't yet decided if she would kill him as originally planned. Perhaps his intentions, which she hated to admit were still unclear to her, would determine his fate. What she _had_ decided was that she wanted him to believe that she intended to kill him. It was the only way to keep such a powerful man in his place. Once she saw him again, in all of his arrogance and treachery, she knew that all bets were off, as was typical whenever they met in person. Anything possible could happen. Jack, of course, was out of the way, long ago, having gotten exactly what he deserved. Wesley still had a chance not to follow in his father's footsteps, but that chance was growing slimmer and slimmer lately... Still, she wanted to see her only son.

But for now she had other business. And Geordi had been right to doubt her veracity, for Emperor Data had no idea that she was out in Klingon territory looking to make the kind of side deal that could solidify her future, as well as the futures of those she chose to take along with her as allies.

A steady beeping suddenly flooded the bridge. " _Perimeter Alert,"_ the computer reported.

"Sir, it's one of the Emperor's security vessels. Closing at full impulse."

 _Data's spies!_ Crusher's fingertips sunk tensely into the armrests of her chair. The time had come to make the hard decisions. "Activate the cloaking device," she ordered, clenching her jaw.

She felt all eyes on her, each crew member suddenly and silently considering whether mutiny was an option. Evading the Emperor's security forces had to be done discreetly, if attempted at all, and was hardly recommended. There was a brief but ominous silence that fell over the bridge. Any poor decision made by the commanding officer of an imperial vessel had the potential of stalling or even ending the careers of his or her crew, while the commanding officer herself risked torture or even execution.

"Aye sir," Crusher heard LaForge say, apparently already having made his own decision. "Cloak is now activated."

* * *

 **Next two chapters to follow shortly...**


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 19**

* * *

 ** _MIRROR_**

 ** _Several parsecs away on the ISS Enterprise_**

* * *

When Commander Deanna Troi stormed onto the bridge, Yar's legs wobbled and she had to steady herself against tactical-all from the anger pouring from the telepath's powerful mind. The rumor went that Troi was not born a full telepath, owing to the fact that she was half-Terran. Being the cosmopolitan world that Betazed was, this wasn't necessarily a hindrance, and in fact, her Terran side automatically afforded her advantages which her fully Betazoid peers lacked simply because of their designated status as one of the "lower species". Betazoids were Terran-like...but they were not Terran, and never would be. And of course, no species would ever equal the Terrans.

But an ambitious officer like Troi would always rise above their natural talents, and she had done so more swiftly than all but the most notable Terrans. She had developed her mind so acutely that she had turned it into an actual telepathic weapon. It was power she did not hide, instead using it to control, humiliate and crush her enemies. It was also a power that sometimes when furious enough to lash out, she did not bother to control; as was occurring just now.

Yar shook her head slowly, clearing the murkiness from her brain, as Troi passed mercifully by. As the Captain had ordered her to do whenever Troi was on the bridge, Yar's hand slipped under the tactical station, activating the bridge's audio amplification device. Yar looked around at the rest of the officers on the bridge. One science officer looked as though he was going to vomit, another appeared just as unsteady on her feet when Troi passed by, as Yar herself had been. It was known colloquially as the "Troi effect".

Yar glanced over the railing at Captain Picard, who sat stoically in his command chair, studying some readouts. He made no move when Troi entered. She imagined it was the duranium implant in his skull that protected him from the Troi effect. Or perhaps it was just him. Yar worshipped the captain, and swore to herself everyday (in the privacy of her quarters), that she would do anything to protect him; in particular, she saw it as her principal duty to keep him safe from potential assassins. Her eyes drifted down and she noted the Borg neural tactical port he'd voluntarily had inserted in his neck recently was healing well.

The captain was always the first to do something new and risky. Right now, Borg technology was "in", and of course, the Enterprise was one of the first ships to have the opportunity to implement such technology. Most Terrans were frightened of the Borg technology, though they would never admit it. But not the captain. He had taken to the implant just as if it had been second nature to him. With it, he was able to more easily target and destroy enemy vessels from his personal tactical station in the command center. It hadn't made the need for a main tactical officer obsolete...at least not yet.

Yar tore her gaze away from the back of the captain's head and watched cautiously as Troi strode toward surveillance station one and interjected in an intimate conversation between Riker and a young female ensign. The young woman scurried away, suddenly no longer distracted by what was colloquially known as the "Riker effect". Yar knew Troi wasn't the jealous type, even where Riker was concerned. She simply didn't have time for that kind of emotional weakness. But clearly, she was angry about something...

* * *

"One of our captured vessels from the Lesser Universe is missing," Troi hissed into Riker's ear. "It's just a small shuttle, but I want to know why and how this happened!"

"Are you accusing _me_?" Riker glanced back at her, taking on a harassed expression. He winced, as Troi switched to communicating through thoughts. It was hardly a pleasant experience when she was angry, but it was necessary to prevent eavesdropping.

 _"That was your job! You were expected to keep track of the hostages and captured ships, Will. That's it! Now-"_

 _"Listen,"_ Riker warned her silently, " _What do we care about one missing shuttle? You just make sure that at the next checkpoint our runabout is ready."_

 _"It is...Crusher's fixed it up nicely."_

 _"Good...he'll have a reward in store then. I'll check on it in a few minutes, just to make sure. Once Picard has our counterparts, we're out of here-"_

Riker and Troi turned, both caught off guard by the Captain's silky baritone.

"Is something wrong? Has something perhaps gone... _awry_?"

Picard stood nearby, watching them with a devilish expression.

"No sir," they responded in unison.

He nodded, and stroked his beard, still smiling dangerously. "That's good, very good. You see, I require that my officers stay on their toes, which is difficult when they'd rather be whispering, or chatting _telepathically_ in a bloody corner. Now...in a very short time we will be carrying out _my_ plans. Are we clear?" His gaze grew steely as he fixated on them.

"Yes sir," they said again moving back to their posts, determined not to betray their alliance any further. It was clear he suspected treachery, but in his position, and in this society, such things were the norm. How much he actually suspected of their specific plans, was unclear.

Picard turned away from them and walked up to tactical where Lieutenant Yar was standing at her post. He put a fatherly hand on her shoulder. "Isn't that correct Tasha? My most _trusted_ officer," he added, giving Riker and Troi a nasty look.

"Yes sir...we need to be on our toes, sir," Yar agreed, not taking her eyes from the tactical station.

Picard gave her shoulder an almost affectionate squeeze and then headed back for his seat. He sat down slowly, eyes forward. "Troi...I'm counting on you that this ion station at the coordinates is functional-not some derelict wreck, floating in deep space."

Troi crossed one knee over the other and leaned back almost casually in her seat nearby at communications. "Yes sir...you have my promise that it has been activated and is simply awaiting our signal. Once we pass nearby, the conditions needed for transfer to and from the Lesser Universe will be optimal."

He turned his head slightly. "And then...we'll be able to use the base to draw the Starfleeters into our universe?" He glared over at her. "Sorry, Troi...I'm afraid I haven't memorized the complete writings of the legendary Spock, as you have. It leaves me at a slight disadvantage, you see..."

 _He's always at a disadvantage as long as I'm around._ "Not to worry sir," she said aloud. "The base will do what it was meant to." She knew that she was correct, and the ion base was working well. She was clever enough to know Picard could not be lied to _all_ of the time. Besides, she had successfully tested this checkpoint herself several weeks earlier, when she and her strike team had penetrated the Lesser Universe to steal a few of the Starfleeter ships, and wreak some momentary havoc.

Riker had been more than reluctant to tell Picard anything, but to keep the captain completely in the dark was impossible. He had eyes everywhere on this ship. Besides, letting him know she had captured some of the Starfleeters finest ships and people, reassured his ego, and gave him the belief that he was cleverly baiting a trap for his counterpart in the Lesser Universe. He didn't have to know the full extent of what she'd done.

 _Her_ Jean-Luc Picard was betting that the _other_ Jean-Luc Picard would try and rescue his people...and she had no doubt he was correct on this point. Spock's writings indicated that the people he encountered from the Lesser Universe one hundred years earlier were honor driven, even-she shuddered to think-peace-seeking. These ridiculous attributes would be the Starfleeters downfall.

So as long as Picard's plans did not conflict with her own, things would be fine between them. Her eyes narrowed, as she considered again that someone had stolen one of the captured shuttles from out from under her nose. But whoever had dared defy her would not be able to hide forever.

"Lucky for you, your promise still means something to me, Troi," Picard was saying. "So for your sake, you'll keep things honest between us."

 _Why start now? Honesty...coming from him, that's interesting._ Troi didn't respond to threats, not even the captain's, so she merely smiled sweetly at him.

Picard didn't seem interested in his usual banter anyway; he seemed distant... lost in thought. "What is our status?" he eventually asked.

"One hour to arrival, sir. Then...we simply wait for the Starfleet ship to appear," said Riker, who stood nearby. He waved over a young officer, who was getting ready to relieve at helm. Riker turned as if to exit the bridge, but Picard put up his hand. "Oh, no, Billy my boy...you'll be flying this ship when we reach those coordinates. I need someone at the helm who knows what he's doing. As they say after all, one for all and all for one!"

Riker didn't dare even glance at Troi. _Sonofabitch is mocking me._ _He doesn't want to let me out of his sight. No chance of inspecting the runabout now...damn._

Then Troi's voice floated in his head. _I told you it was all set Will. Don't be obsessive, it's just not like you, Imzadi..._

* * *

 **PRIME UNIVERSE**

"Status," Picard barked, walking on to the bridge.

"We are approaching the coordinates at warp 8, scheduled time of arrival is twenty-six point five minutes," reported Data, moving swiftly from the captain's chair to ops.

Picard sat down slowly in his seat, glancing at the back of Wesley Crusher's head, now seated at helm. Despite how wonderful it had been to kiss Beverly again, the guilt had already returned. But Wesley didn't turn around to glare, or to berate him, but sat stoically at his post, just like he normally did. He wiped all such distracting thoughts from his mind.

"Where's Riker?"

Data turned his head slightly. "Commander Riker went to locate Lt. Commander Crusher five minutes ago, sir."

And very quickly all of those thoughts came back. Had he betrayed Jack? All those years ago, right and wrong had been so clear. Despite his strong feelings for Beverly, his relationship with Jack had always seemed more important. So what was different now? Wasn't it still wrong to want her? And yet he closed his eyes and could distinctly feel her fingertips pressing into the back of his neck, pulling him closer, assuring them both that this was the right thing. For the first time since the Borg he felt truly alive.

"Captain?"

His eyes snapped open. Troi stood above him, wearing an expression of concern. He straightened in his seat and crossed one leg over the other. "Hmm?"

Troi sat down in her chair and leaned forward, hands clasped. "Sir, I'm sensing some very strong emotions from you."

Picard sighed. _Yes, I'm sure that you are._ "Really, Counselor...and?"

"Usually Captain, when the ship is heading toward a potential danger, your mind is steady and calm. Your focus is clear. However, at this moment I sense a lack of clarity."

He finally glanced her way, amusement curling up the corners of his mouth. "Counselor, I honestly hope this is not meant to serve as a pep talk."

Troi smiled. "Captain I wouldn't dare try and give you a pep talk...but if you need me, I'm here."

He returned her smile slightly, before turning his attention to the system map on his armrest. Still his thoughts were a jumble. Troi had been right. He needed to focus, but instead, he thought of the baby...Jeanette. They were headed for a precarious situation, and suddenly the baby dominated his thoughts. He tapped his communicator.

"Picard to Dr. Crusher."

 _"Crusher here."_

"I uh..." What exactly had he wanted to ask again?

 _"Sir?"_

"Doctor...did you decide what to do with-?"

" _She's here with me in sickbay. Carmen is watching her in a safe room."_

"Carmen, who's Carmen?"

 _"Carmen is the new nurse, because Barbara wasn't working out. Have you already forgotten that we talked about this-"_

'Yes, Doctor, that's fine thank you," he said hurriedly. "Picard out."

He felt Troi's eyes on him. "Not...a word, Counselor," he muttered.

Deanna smiled at him innocently.

"Captain, the sensors are picking up a large subspace distortion at the designated coordinates," Data suddenly announced.

Picard stood up slowly. "Any vessels near that location?"

"Negative, sir," said Worf.

"Helm, keep us on the same course and speed, let's not rush ourselves," said Picard. Still standing, he tapped at the console on the arm of his chair. "At mark 4.623 go to an all stop...at that point, we should be within 50,000 meters of the subspace distortion."

"Aye sir," said Wesley.

* * *

 **Next chapter has also been posted. Hope you enjoy, thanks!**


	21. Chapter 21

_**Chapter 20**_

* * *

 _ **MIRROR UNIVERSE**_

 _"Target approaching spatial rift at warp 8,"_ said the computer.

"Fifteen minutes to intercept, Captain. Do you wish a weapons assist?" asked Yar from tactical.

"No," Picard snapped. "I'll handle this."

Riker turned to wink over his shoulder at Yar.

"Aye, sir," she said, careful to mask her disappointment. Oh well... she would still serve as back-up. It was only natural for the captain to take most of the glory for himself-but that didn't make it fair. And here was Riker, gloating over his shoulder at her. She raised her chin, defiantly challenging them in her mind. She knew Troi and Riker were planning a big move. Maybe she hadn't been smart enough to figure it out earlier in the game. But if those two were planning on trying to assassinate the captain, she'd never allow that to happen.

 _"Entering ion pocket,"_ the computer announced. _"Expect minor disruption of navigational systems."_

 _"_ This may get bumpy," Riker said from the helm. "I'll do what I can to compensate."

The bridge shuddered for a few moments, but the computer had been correct; the disruption was only temporary.

Picard grinned. "That wasn't so bad, now was it?"

* * *

 **PRIME UNIVERSE**

Beverly brushed the baby's soft hair with her fingertips, then reluctantly pushed herself away from the crib. She turned to the nurse on the other side of the small room. "Carmen, I've set up a direct link between this room and the bridge...in case the captain needs to check in with you about the baby. I don't think he will have time, but I just want him to know she's in good hands."

The young woman approached with a soft smile. "Understood, doctor. And don't worry. Jeanette's been sleeping so much better recently, I know she'll probably just sleep through whatever...well whatever we're up against out there."

Beverly smiled, grateful for the woman's attempt at trying to reassure her. She often felt badly for the civilian crew who were often not aware of the actual peril the ship was in at any given moment. They missed out on most of the excitement as a rule. But at the moment she wasn't interested in any more peril, and almost wished she was oblivious to the mess they were heading into. She just wanted her children to be safe. But she still needed to do her job, which included ensuring the medical well-being of everyone on this ship. "I bet you're right Carmen. She'll be fine here with you. Of course I'll just be a few rooms away."

She stopped at the door and turned back. "Please keep the door locked as a rule. The captain has added some extra security personnel throughout main sickbay, so we'll all be a bit safer."

"I know, Doctor. Everyone trusts that Captain Picard will get us through any challenge," the nurse said confidently. "I hope he knows that..."

For some reason these words made Beverly blink back tears. "If he doesn't know, I'll be sure to tell him for you, the next time I see him," she said.

* * *

 ** _A few minutes later..._**

Beverly sat on the edge of her desk, lost in thought. Sickbay was as prepared as they would ever be, which was good, because she was having trouble concentrating. She absently touched her fingertips to her bottom lip, remembering the pressure and warmth of his mouth. She turned at the sound of footsteps, and then froze when she saw who it was. "Jack?"

Jack smiled and approached her, taking her hands in his. "I just had to see you before...well, who knows what's going to happen?"

She returned his smile, but it was more than just nerves that now left her unsure. She squeezed his hands. "Jack...aren't you supposed to be up on the bridge?"

He shrugged. "There are things more important than being on the bridge, Bev."

She frowned but said nothing, watching his face closely.

"I've been back a few days now...I just feel we haven't really been able to connect," he lowered his head and murmured into her neck.

"Jack..."

"What if we never get the chance again?" he kissed her underneath her jawline, and caressed her shoulder with his hand.

Beverly pulled back to look at him. "Are you serious? You want to have sex right now?"

 _Duh._ "I'm not trying to pressure you," he said softly.

"Well...whether you mean to or not, I certainly feel pressured," she said keeping her voice calm. "Look, Jack...I told you, something is still not quite right."

"I know it's probably not something you typically do in your office..."

She let go of his hands and laughed, briefly bringing her hand to her forehead. "No...it's not. Look, Jack, after we come safely out of this situation today, you and I need to have a good long talk. I just-I need to be honest with you."

"About?"

She shook her head. "Not now. We both have duties to carry out."

Something odd flashed in his eyes, but then he shrugged and leaned in to kiss her.

Riker halted in the doorway, clearing his throat. "Sorry to interrupt...but Jack, you're needed on the bridge."

* * *

"Bridge." Riker leaned his head back against the wall of the turbo lift. "Look, Jack, I know you've been out of commission for some time, but the captain gave you a communicator for a reason. And you really don't answer it much."

Jack looked at him. "What's going on between my wife and Picard?" He placed his hands behind his back and fingered the tiny Ferengi weapon attached underneath his wristband. He was nervous, but not yet consumed by his nerves.

 _He's calling his best friend Picard now? What happened to "Jean-Luc" old buddy"?_ Riker glared down at him. "You're out of line, Lt. Commander."

"Am I? Well, I think Picard's the one who's out of line. I may have been gone awhile, but she's still my wife."

Riker put his hands up. "None of that involves me, so we're stopping this conversation right now. In fact, we never had this conversation." He hadn't noticed the turbo lift doors open until Captain Louvois stepped in with them.

"Captain," Riker said with a courteous smile. "Resume," he said, and the lift started upward again.

"What conversation are you pretending not to have just had?" she asked, glancing at both men. "I wouldn't mind hearing some gossip."

"That's because no one ever tells you anything, Phil. At least not until you've launched a full blown inquiry," Jack said.

Louvois rolled her eyes. "Unbelievable. Forget I said anything."

"I'll try," Jack said.

Riker shot him a warning look. Jack was lucky Louvois was so thick-skinned, and for lack of a better word, forgiving. As he watched Jack though, he saw the man was perspiring heavily.

"Mr. Crusher, are you okay?"

Jack wiped sweat from his brow. "Sure, I'm fine," he said as the doors opened to the bridge.

* * *

 ** _"_** Dropping out of warp, Captain," Wesley reported.

"Go to 1/4 impulse...take us to within 50,000 meters of the rift."

"Spatial rift is now confirmed on forward sensor array," Data said.

"LaForge are you reading this anomaly?"

"Yes, I am, Captain. Our little project is up and running if and when we need it."

"Very good. Stand by," said Picard.

He stared at the view screen, but could see nothing but stars. But he suddenly felt very unsettled, as though his ship was being watched. "Shields up," he snapped. He glanced over his shoulder as Riker, Jack and Louvois stepped on to the bridge.

"50,000 meters, captain," said Crusher.

"All-stop."

* * *

Jack eyed Worf and the tactical station, stepping up next to the big Klingon. _God I hate Klingons._ "Do you mind if I take a look at what you're doing there?" he asked in a friendly voice.

Worf glowered. "Yes, I _mind_. I am on duty."

Jack laughed easily, but his body was soaked with nervous sweat. "It's just been a while since I've seen anything like this. I won't get in your way, I promise."

Worf growled, which Jack decided to take as a positive. He ran one of his hands over the smooth railing, while resting his other hand underneath. Worf appeared to be ignoring him, which was ideal. Now he just had to get clear himself and wait for the chance to set off the charge which had been matched to the sample of Picard's pheromones. The device should launch from beneath the tactical station and strike Picard. He just couldn't be sure of the blast radius.

"Jack," Picard was calling to him. "Jack please come down here." He patted the seat next to the captain's chair. "Have a seat here next to me. I want to make sure you are safe."

Jack hesitated, but eventually stepped down the ramp.

* * *

 ** _MIRROR_**

 _"Target within attack range in five minutes."_

"Tactical," Picard barked, and the personal weapons system descended from above his head. The neural connection snaked down from above, unfurling toward the neural port at the back of his neck. There was an electrical jolt at the base of his neck when the connection was made...it hurt like hell at first, but no one needed to know that. As the feeling dissipated he felt the cybernetic tendrils wrap around his torso, and tighten securely, as the targeting system synced with the nerves and sinews of his upper body. He relaxed into it. The recent advances to the Captain's tactical system had at first been slightly disturbing, but once he had grown accustomed to it after a few months, it was nearly comforting.

He smiled to himself. Emperor Data's recent trade deal with the Borg had cost the Empire at least 10,000 subjects; most were allegedly prisoners of the Empire, whom the Emperor had determined to be expendable. No one knew the exact numbers...and few had dared to inquire. What everyone knew was that the exchange had resulted in swift and significant advancements in cybernetics technology, as well as a tenuous alliance with the Borg. The upper ranks of the Terran Empire were consistently conveying the message that within a few years, the Empire would dominate all four Quadrants again. Picard towed the party line, but inwardly he was really waiting for his chance to capitalize on the possibly severe miscalculations of his superiors.

 _"Target within attack range in two minutes."_

 _"_ Match his speed at 1/4 impulse."

"Visual." Picard's tactical glasses floated downward, and he caught them putting them over his eyes in one fluid motion. The yellowish lenses adjusted automatically, and zoomed in on the coordinates he anticipated his enemy to be arriving at very soon in a matter of seconds. Picard held his breath...

A familiar sleek silver shape floated gracefully into view. His breath caught in his throat. "She looks the same as us," he whispered. The _Enterprise_ was in sight. Another _Enterprise_ , commanded by another Picard. He nearly shouted in triumph.

 _Target is raising shields_ , reported the computer. _Target has come to a stop with shields raised._

"Too cautious Picard..." Picard chuckled. "Oh this is going to be too easy! He's too _timid_ to be me," he declared almost joyfully, adjusting the lense on his targeting module.

"Yes sir," agreed Yar from the main tactical station.

"Closing...target is within 50,000 meters, Captain," reported Yar.

 _"One minute to intercept. Spatial anomaly detected."_

"That's our ion base," Troi said, very pleased. _"_ It has a weak cloaking shield. Just enough for us to take our prey by surprise."

"Yes, it's a weak enough device that the ion base appears on our sensors...so as long as _we_ can see it, I don't care," Picard murmured. _Is she trying to distract me?_ He blinked as a drop of sweat rolled down his forehead stinging his eye inside his goggles. The neural port in the back of his neck was itching him incessantly.

Suddenly Yar shouted out from behind him. "Sir, we have trouble ahead! Some kind of mine field between us and the ion base."

 _Waning...warning...subspace interphase pockets detected._

"Damn," Picard whispered.

"That's not good news, Captain," Riker shouted, as the bridge began to shudder again.

"What the hell," Riker shouted. "I have to plot a course through here, this isn't going to be easy."

 _"Troi!_ You didn't say anything about any damn mines, Troi," Picard roared.

Troi jumped up out of her seat and pointed at the forward view screen. "That wasn't here last time! This is impossible."

"Clearly not," Picard snapped. He ripped the tactical goggles off of his face and sprang from his seat. "All-stop!"

 _Multiple subspace interphase pockets detected._

"There's supposed to be a spatial rift here," Picard said, walking toward the view screen. "I'm assuming that is why an ion base was built in this area of space in the first place."

"There is a spatial rift several thousand meters away, Captain," Yar confirmed. "However there are interphase pockets between us and the rift...if we bump one, our shields will take damage. These are very volatile...a virtual mine field sir."

Picard remained facing away. "A natural occurrence?"

"No," chimed in Riker. "If I had to guess, I'd say they were planted. By someone very skilled."

"If you had to _guess_...interesting choice of words from someone who I rely on for actual information, not guesses. It seems that someone intends to thwart my success," Picard said slowly. He turned around then. "Troi, you seem at a loss for words for the first time ever...do you have an explanation for this? No? Well...it seems clear that whoever placed these mines knew how important it was for us to pass by the ion base, because to do so we now have to fly through them. So...who would know this besides the people on this bridge, Troi?"

Troi shook her head, her mouth set in a thin line.

Picard laughed and tapped his temple. "Oh, if only you could read my mind right now..."

He nodded to Riker. "No matter...surely you can plot a course through the mines safely enough?"

Riker nodded. "Working on it sir..."

 _Warning. Unauthorized launch of runabout 238. Unauthorized launch._

Riker's jaw dropped. _Oh shit._

 _My sentiments exactly,_ thought Troi. _I should have known that boy would betray us._

The captain spun back around to the view screen. "Transporter range?"

"Negative, captain," said Yar. "He's moving too fast and has his shields up."

"Shuttle bay 2, what is your report," Picard demanded.

 _"I-I'm sorry sir...he said he was inspecting runabout 238 for Commander Riker, and-he was able to override the outer doors-"_

" _Who?"_ Picard boomed.

" _Wesley Crusher, sir."_

Riker stood up and turned to Yar. "Crusher is a traitor. Target that ship and fire at will."

"Belay that order," Picard shouted. "Let the boy go for now," he said in a calmer voice.

Yar complied and they all watched in silence as the runabout deftly wove through the mine field. Suddenly the craft veered to the left, there was a bright flash, and the runabout disappeared.

Yar looked up in alarm. "He just dropped off our sensors, sir."

Troi confronted Picard. "You should _not_ have let him go!"

Picard pulled out his disruptor and leveled it at her. "Now is your chance to tell me why you suddenly care so much about the boy. You have one minute..."

* * *

 **Hi, thanks as always for reading and reviewing... -PP**


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 21**

* * *

 _ **MIRROR**_

Troi remained steadfast. "You should never have allowed that little traitor escape, Captain. Don't blame me for your failures."

Picard kept the disruptor pistol pointed steadily at her chest. "Forty-five seconds, Troi. You're wasting the last precious moments of your life by repeating yourself."

"As long as he's alive, Wesley Crusher is a wild card, Captain. You never know _what_ he'll do," she said with a knowing smile.

"A reality which you have used to your advantage often, I imagine," he said. "But there is one attribute of Wesley Crusher that remains constant...he hates every single one of us."

"But-"

"And so why should I care that he's left this ship? Tell me Counselor, how he can betray me, when I never even had his allegiance?"

 _You did once,_ _you fool..._ thought Troi.

"I'm waiting, Troi..."

"Have it your way, Captain. I have nothing else to say." Her expression grew very still, as she quietly called his bluff.

"Course plotted, Captain," Riker announced.

"The officer on duty said Crusher was inspecting the runabout for you, Riker," Picard said, not looking away from Troi. "So why shouldn't I kill you where you sit?"

"Because Crusher is an expert liar, Captain...and you still have my loyalty," said Riker slowly. "Don't let him sway your focus, sir."

"Listen to him, Captain," suggested Troi. "You are so close to achieving your goal. Your goals are ours, Captain."

Riker looked from Picard to Troi, and back again, knowing that for the moment, Troi had won the standoff for both of them. Or, more accurately it was a stalemate. Two powerful people who still needed each other. For now.

Picard broke into a slow smile before re-holstering his weapon. He walked back to sit down in his chair.

* * *

"Position of the other Enterprise," he said, giving his tunic a swift tug. Troi returned to communications, and sat down casually, as though nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. The rest of the bridge personnel relaxed just a little bit.

"They're still at a dead stop, Captain," Yar reported.

Picard leaned forward. "What does he know?" he said quietly, staring at the Enterprise on the view screen. "What is he thinking?" Abruptly he sat forward in his chair.

"Most likely, if he is anything like you, Captain, perhaps he can tell that he's being led into a trap," Troi offered.

Picard clenched and unclenched his fists. He was growing weary of her arrogance. But she was correct. The other Picard would not easily be led any further into the spatial rift without reason to do so.

"I need a tactical reassessment, Yar," he barked.

"The mines are our biggest worry, sir. We could back off to a safe distance and then fire a burst of photon torpedoes...clearing a path."

Riker turned to look at her quizzically. "Not smart, Yar. Think with your brain, not your torpedoes for once. We blow a path through that field and we could destroy the ion station too. And then this little adventure was all for nothing."

"But the ion station has shields," Yar argued. "And there are other stations, elsewhere," she reminded Picard.

"Yar, the next closest ion station is 13 hours away at warp 8," Troi snapped. "We're scheduled to rendezvous with Admiral Crusher's ship in 20 hours. Talk about cutting it close. I thought the whole point was to take the Admiral off-guard not just to hand her our heads on a platter," she finished with a smile.

"Riker is _correct_ ," Picard said, deliberately ignoring Troi. "It's too risky. We lose the station here, we lose our best chance." He didn't like to be reminded of the already tenuous nature of his conspiracy to thwart the admiral. It was true, Beverly Crusher had ordered his ship to rendezvous with her own. That meant the Starfleeter decoys needed to be in his custody before then.

His whole crew seemed primed for the kind of stand off he usually engaged in with enemies both inside and outside the empire. The crew believed, with the exception of the few who were in on the plot, that the Enterprise would eventually face Crusher's ship the Contagion in battle. However, there was also the growing rumor that Crusher had personally developed a deadly virus, with which she intended to remove her remaining rivals, namely Troi, Riker, and himself.

He knew Crusher well enough to know that there was some truth to the rumor, and so only the correct preparation would suffice. He was hardly offended that she wanted him dead, such things just came with the territory. The real problem was not only escaping her viral execution plot to live another day, but eventually he intended to convince her to ally with him. They had both been patient...they had stayed in the background while Data gradually gained hold of the empire. He felt sure that once he had Crusher on his side, Data's days would be numbered.

But now he had an additional dilemma. Wesley Crusher was missing. How she would react to this news, he could only imagine. His primary protection was that he had spared the boy's life. He fondly touched the scar under his chin; a reminder of his last in-person meeting with Crusher six months earlier.

He stood up, empowered by his imagined reunion with Admiral Crusher. "Oh, Troi..."

"Yes, Captain?" she answered sweetly.

"I need you to establish communications with one of those stolen ships of yours..."

"And?"

"Obtain and record a subspace signal that we can transmit over the expanse. The other Picard will believe his missing ships are _right_ here. Or at least, he will recognize that the signal is authentic...and he will charge to the rescue."

"Brilliant strategy, Captain," she said. _What a good thing for us both that you decided not to kill me._

* * *

 **PRIME**

"Picking up subspace signal at 342 mark 4, Captain," Data said smoothly.

"That's inside the spatial rift, dead ahead Captain," said Wesley.

"Identify," Riker ordered.

Data's fingers moved elegantly over the ops panel. "Signal has a general identifier...Federation in origin," Data actually turned halfway in his chair. "Captain, the signal is from the _USS Phoenix_."

"Well I'll be damned," said Louvois. "That just has to be good news." She glanced at Picard, who was utterly focused, and was having no problem ignoring her. Philippa had always wondered what it would be like to be present on the bridge of a ship commanded by Picard when things were getting heavy. And now, just like that, she didn't need to wonder anymore. Although she knew she should have been frightened, she was instead thrilled to be there.

Picard tensed in his chair. "Data, can you identify any specific communications?"

"Attempting magnification sir...confirmed, we are picking up something."

Picard stood up, not noticing as Jack still seated nearby, shifted his feet anxiously on the deck.

"Enhance audio," Picard said, and the bridge became hushed, except for the sound of the subspace chatter. "Slow it down," said Picard, walking forward to stop next to Data.

He put his hand on the back of Data's chair. "It's a conversation of some kind," he said in a low voice. "But something's not quite right. Try to isolate specific voices, Data."

Data, continued his calculations, but the conversations still could not be clearly understood.

"It is highly likely that the rift itself is causing the subspace interference, Captain."

Picard put his hands behind his back and walked back to the command center, stopping next to Troi. "Counselor, do you sense anything from this message. The tone...the intent, anything?"

She looked up at him grimly. "Not clearly sir. I can't even tell if it's a live transmission, or a recording."

"Sir," said Riker stepping down the ramp from science station one. "Our sensors aren't penetrating the distortion caused by the rift. Whatever is projecting the signal is not identifiable as a ship."

"What do you mean, ' _whatever_ is projecting the signal'...Data just said it was the Phoenix," Jack suddenly blurted out, pointing at the screen, which showed nothing but a glittering starscape.

Picard and Riker turned to Jack. Riker lifted an eyebrow and turned back to the captain. "Sir, I recommend we send a probe in first, to ensure that the Phoenix is actually present."

"Make it so," said Picard, so far unconvinced that the benefits of entering the spatial rift outweighed the risks of being pulled into an area of space they might not be able to return from.

Jack stood up and grabbed Picard by the arm, steering him away from Riker. "Jean-Luc, listen to me..."

Picard fully noticed for the first time, his friend's anxious, pale expression. "Jack, are you alright?"

"Yeah," Jack said, still gripping his arm. "Look, Jean-Luc...this implant thing in my head is going off like a bell right now. You're wasting time here...and that's not like you. Now, I know the ship doesn't show up on your sensors but you have to believe me: the ship that is responsible for the Phoenix and the other ships going missing is sitting 50,000 meters away from us inside that rift."

"And the _Phoenix_?" said Jean-Luc, studying his friend's tense features.

Jack gripped his Picard by the shoulders. "I'm telling you the truth, Jean-Luc. I don't know where the _Phoenix_ is, but this might be our only chance to find it."

Picard kept his gaze for a few moments longer, then nodded slowly, before moving away from Jack.

Jack clasped his hands together and closed his eyes, cheering inwardly. _I can still tell a lie like a pro. Now, is the boss on the other side of that rift?_ He remembered Pots' warning about the implant, but he couldn't focus on this. It was life or death for him now, not just a payday. He'd brought the _Enterprise_ to the coordinates, now he just needed Picard dead to seal the deal with the boss, and save his own life. He had to give the boss credit. The plot to convince Starfleet that their counterparts from an alternative universe were responsible for the missing vessels had been so elaborate and ridiculous, that they had now fallen for it.

Picard especially, who had been skeptical, now clearly believed there was another Picard on the other side, responsible for all of this. The very thought of another Picard was nearly paralyzing the usually confident captain. He'd caught him off guard, a victory he would be able to speak about for years. It was all he could do not to shout in anticipation of his success. He turned back around and saw that Louvois and Troi were both watching him very carefully. He lowered his head somberly for their benefit, and returned to his seat, carefully keeping his joy in check.

* * *

 _ **MIRROR**_

"What's he waiting for?" Picard asked no one in particular, staring at the image of the Enterprise from the Lesser Universe.

Riker smiled. "Their sensors must not be able to identify us across the rift."

"Incoming!" Yar shouted from tactical. They watched the forward view screen with rapt attention as a tiny sphere hurled toward them. "It's just a sensor probe, Captain," she said regaining her poise. "No threat to us."

Picard howled with laughter, and slapped Riker on his shoulder. "He sent in a probe to fight his battle for him. Wonderful!" He laughed again, and then stepped away. He scratched the side of his face, watching intently as the probe entered the mine field and collided with an interphase pocket, exploding almost immediately. He sobered as he watched the debris fly in every direction. "That will make him think twice," he said, still trying to get inside the mind of his enemy.

"He's convinced the signal is real, at least," Picard murmured. He walked over to look over Riker's shoulder at the coordinates the first officer had mapped through the mine field. "There," Picard pointed at the console. "Take us to 143.1 and full stop. That'll take us close enough to the ion station to bring them in the rest of the way, whether they intend to come or not."

"Aye, sir," Riker said, moving his hands over the helm controls. He held his breath as he maneuvered the ship through the field without incident. "Full stop," he said quietly.

"Ion station is activated," Troi reported. "Ready for interdimensional transfer in fifteen seconds."

Picard smiled. "Battle stations."

* * *

 **PRIME**

Worf's console emitted a high-pitched noise. "Captain," Worf looked up with alarm. "The sensor probe has been destroyed!"

"By what?"

"Unknown, Captain."

"The source of the subspace signal has moved closer to us," said Data. "It is now within 20,000 meters."

Picard glanced over at Riker. "Whomever sent that subspace communication knows damn well where the _Phoenix_ is, and that's good enough for me. Helm, set a course for the last known coordinates of the probe. Engage on my mark."

Picard tapped his communicator. "Picard to LaForge, I need you to prepare-"

"Captain," Wesley announced. "Helm is unresponsive."

"Override!"

"Trying sir."

The lights on the bridge dimmed, and the deck shuddered beneath their feet. Picard raced back to his seat, and began checking the console on his armrest. There was rush in his ears as though he had just been dunked underwater. "Ops, I need a report."

The bridge grew deathly quiet, as a very slow wave of energy was engulfing every particle of the ship and its crew.

"Report," Picard heard himself say again. His voice sounded disembodied, as though someone else was speaking into his ear. He moved his head to the left and saw Troi. Her eyes were closed in meditation perhaps, and she was very pale. He turned his head to the right and it felt ten pounds heavier. His vision was distorted.

Philippa Louvois grabbed his arm, then let go, putting her face into her hands. He heard her groan, and tried to find the words to speak again, but Data brought him back to the present. The gray film that permeated the bridge just moments ago, lifted, as did a sense of collective disorientation.

* * *

 **Inside the Mirror Universe**

"Our position has changed," Data announced. "I have taken control of the helm," he said. Picard saw that Wesley had been slumped over the helm and was slowly coming to. Picard forced himself to his feet, trying to shake off the fog. Riker leaned against the wall near the ready room, regaining his balance.

" _Captain,"_ came Geordi's voice through the intercom. " _I don't know what just happened, but all propulsion systems are back online after a few seconds of disruption. My Visor did detect an- an energy wave ...it passed through the warp field somehow. We're clearing out any residual radiation now sir."_

"Very good, Geordi." LaForge did not sound well. Whatever had traversed the bridge had more intensely affected the engineering section. "Picard to sickbay."

 _"Dr. Selar here."_

"Doctor, send a medical team to engineering immediately, we seem to have encountered a radiation wave."

" _Acknowledged."_

"Sensors are back online in 3, 2, 1," Data was reporting calmly. "Captain, unidentified vessel ahead at 329.1," said Data quickly.

"Shields up. On main viewer."

* * *

It was the _Enterprise,_ there was no mistaking every single similarity between his ship and the one floating up on the screen. Picard rubbed his eyes, still open to the idea that this might all be a dream.

"Data...although I can normally trust my own eyes, is there any other way we can confirm that we have indeed transferred into a parallel universe?"

"The energy wave described by Geordi left traces of ion radiation, Captain. Similarly although Mr. Crusher set a course for an area roughly within our current location, we did not propel ourselves into this area of space. Based on several factors, we may have traveled, or rather been drawn into a parallel universe."

"But it's not noticeably different than our...normal universe-according to the sensors?"

"No sir."

"Any sign that the Phoenix is in this area of space?" Riker asked.

"The earlier transmission from the Phoenix has now ceased," said Worf. "The ship itself does not register on any of our sensors."

" _Warning...spatial anomalies detected,"_ the computer announced.

* * *

"Multiple subspace interphase pockets in the space between us and...them," Worf said. "These are highly volatile and present a threat to our shields and hull, Captain."

"A mine field, or worse," warned Riker.

"Captain," said Data. "The nature of the interphase anomalies confirms the likely convergence of two or more realities-"

"I'm convinced now, Data...helm, plot us a route out of this field, but maintain our position for now," said Picard.

"Course plotted," said Wesley.

"Continue to scan the area for any sign of our missing ships," ordered Riker.

Picard glanced behind to look for Jack, and saw that his friend was up on his feet. If there was ever a time when he needed to know what Jack knew about the Terrans, it was now. Picard walked closer to him, but Jack backed away from him in a strange manner. Distracted, Picard moved to Wesley and put a hand on the boy's shoulder. Wesley looked up at him, but said nothing. He appeared well enough now.

"Hail them."

"Hailing frequencies open sir," said Worf.

"Unidentified vessel, this is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the United Federation of Planets. We are...attempting to locate some of our comrades who have gone missing. We received a signal from one of our missing vessels, the _USS Phoenix_. We request your assistance."

"They are hailing us," Worf said, with some surprise.

"On screen," Picard said, his throat impossibly dry.

In the next instant, to see himself up on the screen, or rather someone that looked so eerily like him was absolutely mind blowing. There were audible murmurs from the bridge crew.

The other Picard, and there was no other way to think of him any other way, wore a short beard, and was wearing a black sleeveless tunic, covered by a gold sash across his torso, almost Klingon in style. The eerie image of the dagger-impaled Earth was tattooed below his Adam's apple. He was armed not just with some kind of disruptor pistol, but a small hand held device was attached to his belt, along with a dagger, which was perhaps for ceremony more than anything else. He stood with his arms crossed, the picture of arrogance. After a moment he grinned broadly, flashing several gold capped teeth.

 _How fitting that he resembles a pirate from the stories of my youth_ , thought Picard.

 _"I always desire to see the face of my enemy before and after,"_ said the man on the screen. " _Beforehand, you see my opponents always have the same confident expression...although I cannot help but note some confusion on your face, Captain. And then when the battle is through...assuming you still have a face, well then comes the crying...and the begging."_

"I have no idea who you are," said Picard. "Therefore we need not be enemies," he said calmly.

The other version of Picard poked himself in the chest. " _You have no idea who I am? Are you daft?"_

"I admit you bear resemblance to me," said Picard. "And your ship is quite familiar. And because of the...circumstances under which we seem to have arrived here, I assume that you are well aware of who I am. And it is just as clear that you are aware of our missing ship the Phoenix, as you lured us here by somehow duplicating its signal-"

 _"When I imagined meeting the lesser version of myself, I actually expected someone more...interesting. Someone not given to useless speeches."_

Jean-Luc was utterly confused and insulted by that statement, but remained steadfast. "As I explained...we are requesting assistance to locate our missing ship."

" _You request assistance? You bring shame to the name Picard, with your weakness!"_ the man suddenly seethed through the view screen, before it turned black.

* * *

"Captain, they are firing weapons in short bursts," Worf reported. "They are targeting the interphase pockets closest to us."

"Evasive action." The ship shook.

"Captain there's almost no room to maneuver the ship without hitting one of those," shouted Wesley.

" _Engineering to bridge...bad news, we've lost warp capacity. Those interphase pockets and ion radiation we're swimming in are interfering with the warp field. We're working on it, sir."_

There was another blow, this time from overhead.

"Steady."

* * *

"Shields are taking significant damage," said Data. "Inertial damping control system appears to have been damaged during the transfer from our universe. Even if we regain warp capacity soon sir, we will not safely be able to enter warp without the dampers online."

"We need to get it repaired, or we aren't getting out of here alive," said Riker, now working from a console. He had heard horror stories citing rare occurrences where crews had literally become one with the walls of the ship when stabilization failed during warp.

The ship shook again from a blast, and Picard had to steady himself against Data's console. He couldn't just fire back without risk of causing further damage to his own ship, but couldn't sit and wait for the situation to get worse, either. _And no easy escape._

"Data, are the pockets static, or moveable?"

"Sensors confirm the interphase pockets are moving, although imperceptibly, Captain. Whether they could safely be moved by mechanical means is unknown, Captain."

"Can you calculate the force needed to push one of these pockets away from us, without causing damage to our hull?"

"Yes sir. I have just done so, sir," Data said in the next moment.

Picard pointed at the console. "Lock on to one of these sizeable interphase pockets with the forward deflector beam." Data's fingers moved in a blur of motion.

Picard turned back to look at Worf, just as the ship was hit by another blow. "Mr. Worf, take control of the beam and target the bridge of that ship."

"Targeted."

He raised his arm. "Fire."

* * *

 **Hi, thanks for reading. Keep an eye out for the next couple of chapters soon. -PP**


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 22**

* * *

 _ **Inside the Mirror Universe**_

 _ **...**_

 _ **MIRROR Enterprise**_

Troi watched Picard with mild irritation. The Borg implant in the back of his neck was currently tapped into his personal tactical system, which he was using to bludgeon the so-called Lesser _Enterprise_ with repeated weapons fire.

 _He's toying with them. What a surprise._ Troi looked down at her surveillance monitor. "Captain, I'm picking up an internal beacon signal. It's on deck 10...Wesley Crusher's quarters." _Damn that child, even when he is off the ship he's a thorn in my side._

"Of course it's in his quarters," growled Picard, not turning his attention away from the targeting module. "It's always something with that lad. If you're so concerned, send one of your teams to investigate."

Troi pushed herself out of her seat. "I'll take care of this myself," she said smoothly, exiting the bridge before Picard could object.

Picard leaned into the module. It had been Yar's idea to target the interphase pockets surrounding the lesser Enterprise, and now his enemy was nearly helpless. "Firing disruptors," he murmured.

"Another direct hit, Captain," announced Yar. "Their shields are now at 70 percent."

"Sir, with all due respect this is no challenge for us. Your counterpart is too weak to even fire back at us," Riker said.

"We set up a fine trap for him. No doubt he fears weakening his shields further," said Picard. "If he does nothing he'll take less damage, than if he fights. But either way he is outmatched...might as well put up a fight, I say."

"This victory will only confirm the superiority of the Terran race," announced Yar triumphantly.

"Was there ever any question in your mind, Yar?" Riker glanced back at her. "Careful now how you answer that question."

"No sir, never had a doubt. But it still makes me proud."

"Shut _up_ , the both of you," Picard snapped. He adjusted the focus on the module ever so slightly, blinking to keep his eyes from blurring over beneath his goggles. "Yar, are you seeing what I'm seeing?"

"An energy surge, sir...in their forward deflector array."

Picard grinned. "He's planning something. I knew he wouldn't disappoint me."

"Incoming!"

"He's targeting the bridge. Get us underneath it!" Picard screamed at Riker, who furiously worked to evade the immense lump of energy that was hurtling toward them like a comet. He was mostly successful, but the ship groaned and there was a cracking sound as the pocket glanced off their shields just above the bridge.

"That hurt us, sir. Shields at eighty percent, Captain."

"Yar, I want to send him a message in return. Target his engineering decks directly and fire torpedoes at will."

"Firing. Direct hit sir!"

Picard pushed the targeting module aside and leapt to his feet, clapping his hands together once in triumph. He tossed his tactical goggles to the floor. "Magnify the forward view screen." The portside body of the enemy ship was now charred in appearance, and wisps of green plasma blew out into space before dispersing.

"They're trying to maneuver through the field, Captain. They're heading straight for us," Riker warned.

"They have a modified tractor beam. How creative," Picard watched as the enemy ship scooped up another interphase pocket and used its repulsor beam to hurl it toward his ship. This time Yar quickly targeted the projectile and it exploded far enough away that they took only minimal damage this time.

"If the other Picard could warp away, I think he would," Picard said, sitting back down in his chair. "He's scanned the area and knows his missing ship is nowhere in the vicinity." He leaned forward. "The ion station must be interfering with their warp field."

"Engineering reports our own warp field is fluctuating, Captain," said Yar, anticipating his next question. "We are further away from the station than the enemy, but still affected.

Picard's face bore a dissatisfied expression. "Hmm, the game is over, then. We can't function in this field anymore than he can."

Riker wiped sweat from his brow. "Captain, I _highly_ recommend that we move to within transporter range now. Their shields are depleted enough now that we may be able to establish a lock." _Which still won't be easy because he's pissed them off now..._ "We came to capture our prey not to destroy them."

"Agreed," Picard said. "Move to within range-"

" _Troi to Picard."_

"What is it?"

 _"Captain I'm in Crusher's quarters, or his former quarters, I should say. He's got half-finished experiments everywhere in here, the place is trashed-."_

"Troi, damn you-either get up to the bridge, or sign off- we're in the middle of battle," he shouted, as the ship shook with the strain of evading another projectile.

" _Captain, this beacon was intentionally left here by Crusher. It seems he's trying to alert someone to our location here."_

"Who?" It was only then that he realized she had wanted him to ask that question.

 _"If I had to guess I would say mommy dearest is somehow involved."_ The sadistic satisfaction in her tone was unmistakable.

"Nonsense," Picard snapped. "Shut the thing down."

" _My people are on it, sir. Troi out."_

* * *

"Nonsense," Picard said again under his breath, even as a chill ran through him, considering once more Admiral Crusher's plans to do him in. _She ordered me to rendezvous with her ship...why would she be tracking me?_ "It's not her style to sneak around," he said aloud, sounding defensive even to himself.

"We're within range," Riker said. "Their shields are still weak...trying to get a lock on Picard, Troi, and Riker," he said finding it a little odd all of a sudden that he was about to capture himself.

"What about me?" Yar said earnestly. "I mean...the other me, other Yar I meant to say."

Picard dropped his forehead into his hand briefly. Could it be that this loyal fool behind him was only just realizing she was to be left out of the plot to escape Crusher? Perhaps though this was no longer the right approach, he now considered for the first time. He had always rewarded loyalty in the past-why change now? Still, he would make no promises.

"Time to grow up, Tasha," he said gruffly over his shoulder. "There _is_ no Natasha Yar currently alive in _their_ universe. Does that cause you to hesitate in carrying out your orders?"

Yar's hopes fell away just like that, and she straightened at her post. "No sir." She turned her attention fully to her console, and it wasn't long before she saw trouble. "Captain, reading an energy surge 8000 meters away from us off starboard."

Riker swore. "It's a cloaked ship! And it's firing on us," he said, his hands flying over the controls.

* * *

The technology had recently been improved so as to enable a cloaked ship to fire while still invisible to its enemies. The only telltale sign was an energy surge from the ship's bow. By the time you knew a cloaked ship was near, it had already attacked you. And this was precisely why only a handful of the empire's ships were legally equipped with this technology.

"We're taking damage," Yar shouted, holding fast to her station, as another hit penetrated the shields. Whatever the weapon was, it was no more conventional than the cloaking technology it was hiding behind. "Hull breach, decks 24 through 27." She coughed through the cloud of black smoke and fire that had burst from the wall behind her. Crew members scrambled to put out the blaze.

"Return their fire!"

"Trying sir, but they've changed position."

The next hit sent the ship spinning into one of the interphase pockets. The entire bridge shook this time, and the shudder continued, vibrating under their boots.

"We've lost an engine pylon," reported a stunned crew member. "Plasma fire in engineering."

"Look," said Riker, as smoke continued to infiltrate the bridge. "The other Enterprise is continuing to advance. They've modified their deflector field again."

"Captain they're pushing multiple energy pockets toward us," Yar shouted. "We won't be able to evade most of those."

"If we don't, we're dead in any number of ways," Riker warned.

"Prepare to go to warp," Picard shouted. The ship shook again, and there was an explosion on the bridge.

Riker shouted something unintelligible. "We've lost warp capacity," he reported. He steadied his breathing, seeing the other Enterprise advance toward them, pushing a whole field of lethal interphase pockets ahead of it. Meanwhile the cloaked ship continued to fire on them.

"Going to do what we can to avoid getting obliterated...wait, Captain, the cloaked vessel is firing on the other Enterprise too!" Sure enough purple disruptor fire shot from seemingly nowhere and peppered the alternate Enterprise with energy blasts.

* * *

 **PRIME Enterprise**

 **Moments earlier...**

"Shields are at 65 percent," Worf reported testily.

"I want full power to shields. Go to auxiliary power for life support, sickbays, and all secondary systems," said Picard.

"Inertial damper control system isn't perfect but it's patched up," said Riker, as the dim emergency lighting kicked in.

"It'll have to do," said Picard, tapping his communicator. "Warp status, Mr. LaForge?"

"Torpedoes incoming," Worf announced.

"Brace for impact!"

Just then the deck shook as the ship sustained another direct hit. Several personnel stumbled and fell, as there was another rumbling coming from the lower decks.

A grinding alarm began to sound. _Warning...hull breach._

LaForge's voice suddenly flooded the bridge. _"Captain, I can't get you warp drive yet, still too much ion interference-"_

The engineer broke off at the sound of an explosion, and agonized shouts could be heard in the background. Then he was back again. " _Sir...we've got to evacuate main engineering until we get these fires out. I have multiple plasma fires all over deck 36."_

"Emergency crews to engineering," Riker yelled into the intercom.

 _"Crusher to Picard."_

Picard tensed, but didn't turn around. "Go ahead, Doctor.

 _"Captain, we barely have adequate lighting down here, and I've gained seventy-five new patients in the last ten minutes."_

"I'm sorry doctor. We'll boost the power to each of the sickbays, as soon as we can. Picard out."

"Diverting additional power to the sickbays," said Data.

"Picard to engineering." There was a long pause, then shouts in the background.

" _Captain,"_ said an unfamiliar voice. " _Engineer Lewis here...Chief Engineer was just taken to sickbay."_

"Damn," Picard murmured. He knew better than to ask about LaForge's health status, which could only further distract and demoralize the bridge crew. "Acknowledged, Lewis. What is the status of our warp drive?"

 _"I've been working from outside of main engineering, Captain. The warp core has been sealed off from the fires, and is safe. The bottom line is that we need to break clear of this field in order to escape the ionic interference. Once we do that we can try to engage warp drive."_

"Acknowledged," said Picard. He stared at the main viewer with a growing sense of frustration. They were trapped, and vulnerable in an alternate universe where violence was the norm. They'd been led into a trap, but for what purpose?

* * *

Deanna Troi often felt useless during emergency situations, until of course the immediate crisis had passed and she was needed to assist with the lingering emotional effects on the crew. When he was required to make life or death decisions quickly, there were things she could, and did do to support the Captain's focus, although she would never reveal this to him. But it was possible to help him to focus his intention on the crisis at hand. At this very moment, however, she was having some difficulty focusing on supporting the captain, when the frenzied thoughts of another mind were thwarting her efforts.

She watched as Jack Crusher paced back and forth near the captain's ready room. During those tense moments every single officer on the bridge knew they might lose their lives. But Jack was the only person who was unable to focus on anything else but his possible death, and escape. His mind was frantic with expectation, but there was something more. When the alternate Enterprise had first appeared on the view screen, the surprise around the bridge at seeing an identical Enterprise. But everyone working on the bridge had been well-briefed on the possibility of such an occurrence, because of the nature of the mission. Their surprise did not have the effect of paralyzing them, as it had Jack. Jack was genuinely shocked by the appearance of the alternate Enterprise. One thing was now clear to her. He had not expected to encounter this particular ship, despite having said for days now that he had escaped from a so-called mirror universe. And this was all she needed to know to see that something was very wrong with Jack Crusher. She had found him difficult to read before, but now his fear was visceral. She got up from her seat.

"Captain," she said, approaching Picard. "I need to speak with you."

Picard turned around, not missing the intensity of her tone. "Yes, Counselor?"

"Sir," she said lowering her voice and getting right to the point. "Jack is hiding something."

He frowned. "Go on," he said, matching her quiet tone.

Picard stole a glance over at his old friend. To Troi's surprise, instead of waiting for her to say anything further, he stepped around her. "Jack," he said, walking toward his friend. "Jack, I need to know what you know about the intent of...of the other Picard."

Another explosion rocked the bridge, and smoke began to pour from the ceiling above.

 _"Warning, environmental systems have been compromised...warning."_

Picard grabbed Jack by the shoulders. "He's the one who held you captive for all those years, isn't he? Jack, I don't blame you if you resent me for what happened to you...but I need you to tell me now- I implore you...what does he want with us?"

Jack's eyes were wide and his mouth hung open in apparent shock. "I-I can't remember anything that can help you, Jean-Luc. I'm sorry."

Picard clenched his jaw angrily, before turning around and striding toward the view screen.

"What is our shield status?"

"Shields are at 45 percent, Captain."

"We need to get out of this mine field," said Picard. "Mr. Data...modify the forward deflector beam to cover as much area as possible. We're going to make one last push, and hope the Terran ship will be bombarded, just as we have been. When you're ready, Mr. Data, deploy the beam."

"Aye sir...deploying the deflector beam."

An array of the interphase pockets shot out ahead of the Enterprise and hurtled toward the enemy ship.

"Ensign Crusher, go to half impulse power and set a course through the rest of this mine field."

"The Terran ship has been impacted by several of the projectiles, Captain. Its shields are taking damage."

"Lock on and fire phasers." The distance between the two ships was closed almost instantly.

"On my mark go to full impulse until we clear the field. Engineering, prepare for warp drive."

"Captain! Sensors show an energy surge roughly 9000 meters to port. The Terran Enterprise is under attack."

The view screen suddenly lit up with a series of explosive purple energy beams, directed at the other Enterprise. "The Terran Enterprise has sustained damage to their propulsion systems."

Suddenly the screen lit up again, and this time the Enterprise was hit by the devastating weapon.

"We're taking fire!"

 _"Warning...shield failure is imminent."_

"Cut the deflector beam, transfer remaining power to shields," Riker said, moving to join Worf at tactical.

"That beam is draining our power, eating through our shields."

"Lock on to the source of that power surge, and fire."

"Unable to get a lock, Captain. The vessel is employing a highly advanced cloaking technology."

"Keep trying."

Jack walked forward, suddenly aware that this was his moment to take. _Could that be the boss? It must be!_

In the next moment or so, the ship was hit again, and this time, everything went wrong.

* * *

 **Thanks guys, for reading and for your feedback. I should be able to post the next chapter tomorrow. -PP**


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 23**

 **MIRROR Enterprise**

* * *

"The cloaked ship is continuing to attack the other Enterprise, Captain," Yar reported. "They won't last much longer."

Yar was right, the cloaked vessel was battering the Starfleeter ship, which had taken excessive damage to its bridge, not to mention the damage his own ship had inflicted before the uninvited guest had arrived. He'd wanted to humiliate his counterpart, but certainly killing the decoys had not been in the plans. Now, the other Picard and his crew were at risk of being destroyed. The longer he watched his victory being snatched away from him, the more furious he became. He had no intention of allowing this newcomer to steal his thunder, or to kill his mirror counterparts.

Suddenly Picard grabbed the Borg tactical implant and slammed it into the back of his neck. The force of the connection made his vision go fuzzy for a few moments, and he staggered, falling back into his seat. He brought the targeting module up to his face, as rivulets of mechanical life flowed through the muscle and sinews of his upper body.

The Borg connection held him fast, and a nearly pleasant warmth gripped the back of his neck. His vision became crystal clear, and his focus on the unseen enemy became a certainty. The new implant picked up radiation signatures that even the ship's sensors were unable to register. There...he could almost see a wisp of an outline of the cloaked ship. Unable to shake his head in disbelief, he swallowed thickly. No...it couldn't be. But then the image disappeared. He felt his neck muscles tighten as the implant confirmed the target lock. "Firing photon torpedoes," he said.

A brief explosion, and a trail of plasma fuel were the only signs that the torpedoes had found their mark.

"They've stopped firing, Captain. You must have landed a blow," Yar reassured him. "Look! They've been hit..."

They all watched as the plasma trail moved swiftly away from both starships.

"Are they retreating?" Picard asked, staring at the view screen.

"Oh no," declared Riker. "They're heading for the ion station."

"Pursue them," Picard roared.

Riker did as he was ordered, but the new ship was too fast, too powerful, and in his ship's bruised condition, they were easily outpaced. They all knew generally what was about to occur, but there was no real way to prevent it from happening. Just two bolts of purple energy jolting out of the vacuum of space, and the ion station, itself also cloaked, was destroyed instantly.

"Ion station is no longer on our sensors, Captain.

Picard rose from his chair, turning his attention to his foe from the Lesser Universe. A shimmering wave passed over the other Enterprise, and then the vessel was simply gone.

"They're gone, Captain," Yar said, now deflated of her confidence. "The other Enterprise just disappeared from our sensors." She slapped the heel of her palm against the railing in frustration. The plasma leak from the cloaked ship had also disappeared, suggesting the cloaked ship had departed the area. The scene on the view screen was eerily serene.

Picard turned back to the captain's chair, and ripping the targeting module from the overhead tactical station, hurled it violently into the forward view screen. The module bounced off the now cracked screen, which flickered in objection.

The turbo lift doors swished open behind him, and he turned to look. Annoyed that it was Troi, Picard turned back to stare at the cracked view screen. "Someone knew our plans perfectly. Or at least, he knew enough to lock us into our own trap."

"Don't you mean _she_ knew our plans?" questioned Troi.

Picard turned back around to glare at her. Troi looked angry, but also appeared incredibly self-satisfied. It was such an irritating expression, that he merely turned back around to face the empty view screen.

"It wasn't her," he said quietly.

"Respectfully, Captain, it probably was," Troi persisted, walking over to stand next to Will Riker. "Your ex-wife is hunting us down, and you're still in denial about it. It was a cloaked ship! And Wesley Crusher is responsible for all of this, you can be sure."

Picard brushed by Troi and walked swiftly to the turbo lift. "I want this ship returned to full capacity in two hours, no exceptions," he snapped, before disappearing in to the lift.

* * *

 **PRIME Enterprise**

The first deafening explosion on the bridge came from above, and the force of it blasted everyone to the deck.

 _Danger...deck 1 hull has been compromised..._

Data pushed himself up and moved back into his station at ops. The very top of the ship had been severely damaged by the cloaked attacker. He swiftly re-routed all bridge operations through his station, and then did what he could to bolster the ship's structural integrity field to protect the injured hull.

 _The primary hull has now been temporarily repaired..._

A second electrical explosion rocked the bridge, damaging the deck plating. Data again attempted to compensate, but just as the other crew members were struggling to their feet, they lost their collective footing.

 _Interior gravity deck plates have malfunctioned. Artificial gravity has failed on deck 1._

Data gripped his console tightly with one hand, and reached out to grab Wesley Crusher's ankle just as the boy floated upward. Securing his foot, Data was able to bring Wesley back down to his chair. "Grab on tightly," he advised the teen, who looked quite ill, but was able to comply.

Shouts of confusion filled the bridge, which was bathed in red emergency lights. "Everyone stay calm," the captain's voice could be heard. "Grab hold of something stable if you can."

Most people on the bridge were trained to at least move clumsily around in low gravity situations, but instances when artificial gravity failed were rare. The ability to harness gravity, like warp drive, was something that if one was not careful, could be taken for granted.

Unfortunately, the Captain had been unable to grab anything stable enough to keep himself from floating up to the top of the bridge. Once there, he was able to steady himself against one of the ceiling supports. He could see Worf floating nearby, and the expression on the Klingon's face would have been somewhat comical if the situation had been less dire. Although visibility on the bridge was poor due to red alert status, he could see Riker gripping the tactical station, with his legs splayed out in mid-air. Squinting he could see Troi was alright, as was Louvois. Wesley was safe with Data. But he couldn't easily see Jack.

He made the mistake of turning his head to the left, and he saw just where the hull had been compromised. Actually he saw directly out into space through a ragged hole. The hull had been severely damaged, but Data had strengthened the structural integrity field, preventing explosive decompression of the entire bridge. Only the field protected him from certain death by being blown out into space. Feeling even more light-headed, he turned his head and closed his eyes. When he opened them, he saw Jack for the first time since the cloaked ship had attacked, and he was floating just a few meters away. A split second later, an explosive impact slammed into his side, and everything went black.

* * *

 **A few moments earlier...**

Jack Crusher floated down close to the deck. He was used to traveling in the kinds of crappy space vessels that didn't have reliable artificial gravity systems, and so he had been able to think and act quickly, grabbing the bottom of Troi's usual chair, after the counselor had floated up and over the back of the command center before clinging to the tactical station.

The bridge was dark and vision was poor, only aiding his confidence in what he was about to do. But he had begun to wonder if following through with his plans would actually keep him alive. It was clear the Boss wanted to cripple the ship, and he had done so. Was he also now trying to destroy it? Gripping his wrist he tapped a code into his comm device. He quickly sent an encoded message to the Boss indicating that he would be ready to collect his payment in ten minutes, and needed off of the ship. Sweat beaded on his forehead and drifted lazily into the air as he awaited an answer, any answer. Finally, a single word appeared on his wristband monitor: " _Proceed_ ".

As soon as Jack heard Picard's voice, he knew he was in luck, because he could now see that the captain was floating up at the ceiling, and was far enough from anyone else-except maybe Worf, who was suspended in the air near Picard. The assassin's bullet, so to speak, was attuned only to Picard's pheromones, and so if all went well, it would target him specifically. If someone else was harmed...well it wasn't his intention.

But something went wrong. As another explosion hammered the hull of the ship, Jack's hand pulled free of the seat post, and he was sent tumbling upward. He ended up catching a ceiling support, now not too far from Jean-Luc. Almost automatically, Jack flicked his fingertip underneath the wrist band of his communications device, triggering the pheremonic charge he had placed under the tactical station. At the same time, he ducked his head and pushed off, rolling away through the low gravity of the bridge, just as the explosion impacted him, knocking him out cold.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 24**

* * *

 ** _MIRROR Universe: The Klingon Territories_**

"Captain Worf, I thought you were interested in making a deal that would benefit both of us. Was I mistaken?"

Worf curled his hand into a fist in front of him on the table. As a Klingon, he knew this Terran admiral saw him merely as one of many subjects to use as needed. By simply attending this meeting, he had bet nearly everything, possibly even his life, that the arrogant officer in front of him shared some of his own interests.

"Admiral, many in the Klingon territories are...suspicious of our new alliance with the Borg. But that does not mean that I have the support of the Klingon High Council."

Beverly Crusher smiled coldly. "Of course you don't. But I need a solid commitment of at least twenty Klingon ships. Otherwise we don't have a deal."

"What is your strategic plan?" Worf demanded.

Crusher glanced over her shoulder at Worf's subordinates, who stood quietly in the background. She had made a decision not to include LaForge in this meeting. He only needed to know the minimum. She knew he would always be loyal to Data, and her willingness to keep him close for now did not mean he trusted him...yet. So she had come alone.

"My strategic plan is...not something I intend on revealing to you until I have been assured of your commitment that we will have the necessary firepower."

Worf leaned in. "And I require your commitment as well, Admiral."

"Oh?" She smiled again. Perhaps she found any demands made by him to be amusing.

He kept his voice low so as not to cause her to lose face in front of his officers. "The times are changing. The Borg are gaining control-"

"Yes, that's why I'm here, I thought that was understood." There was no amusement in her expression now.

Worf paused. "Overthrowing the current emperor is of little benefit to me unless the next person in power is a friend to Klingons."

The Terran woman's eyes glittered in a way that communicated she didn't appreciate being imposed upon. But she did not appear surprised by his statement either. "What do you want?"

"A seat on the Terran council."

She laughed at that. "Are you a politician, Worf? How disappointing."

"Not for me personally...but currently the Klingon people have no influence on the council whatsoever. We must have a seat on the council."

"You can't be serious. You _are_ aware the council is merely a collective mouthpiece for the emperor? All you would have is the appearance of influence- which I will admit is not the worst thing to have. But it's just not the real thing."

"Nevertheless, that is one of my terms."

"You have more than one?"

"The encroachments into Klingon territory must stop."

Crusher tapped her fingertips on the table. Who did this Klingon think he was? "You seem to forget that your people are still subjects of the Terran Empire, Captain Worf. That certainly won't change once I am in charge."

She studied his face. He seemed more trustworthy than most of her own officers. Perhaps when she ruled the Empire, things would be different, however she didn't intend to make too many concessions. "Fine. I agree to your terms," she said finally.

Worf stood up, as she rose to her feet. "I'll need your assurance as to the Klingon ships which you promise will fight alongside mine."

"I will contact you within the next three days, to confirm," Worf reassured her.

"Good. Oh, and contact me on a secure channel," she added. "I simply can't trust anyone these days."

* * *

 **On Board the IMS** ** _Contagion_**

When she arrived in the transporter room, Geordi was waiting for her. No one else was present, and she gave him a rare appreciative smile, she normally reserved for the privacy of her quarters. They had reconnected the night before and this morning he had seemed much more mellow because of it. She admitted, she felt clear-headed today, ready to make her own future, and giving no attention at all to the mistakes of her past. But LaForge no longer looked content, instead he looked worried.

She looked at him closely, as they stepped out of the transporter room side by side. "I know that look...what's happened now?" She'd only been gone a few hours, but any number of bizarre things could have occurred.

LaForge pursed his lips. "The official word from headquarters is that the Enterprise was involved in a skirmish on the outskirts of Orion territory. The ship is intact, but took a beating."

Crusher shrugged, not enjoying having her time wasted. "Geordi that's nothing new...this is Picard we are talking about, after all."

"The thing is...headquarters is not releasing the identity of the ships that engaged the Enterprise...except that there were two different vessels."

Crusher shook her head. "Really, why would I even consider killing him off, when he already has a death wish?"

LaForge smiled quickly, but then turned very serious again. "My _unofficial_ sources on the Enterprise also say that Wesley escaped in a shuttle-"

"Escaped?"

Geordi nodded. "Picard didn't attempt to stop him."

"And your sources...do they know why my son had to escape in the first place, or where he's gone?"

"No. I'm sorry, Admiral."

She shook her head. "It's not your fault. But I'll find out who is to blame, you can be assured of that."

* * *

Beverly Crusher pulled her robe around her, reluctantly sliding out of her bed. The beeping had not stopped. She didn't appreciate any interruptions, especially this time of night.

She heard a sigh, and she looked over her shoulder at Geordi, who shifted in bed under the covers, half asleep.

The computer monitor blinked at her.

 _Admiral, you have an incoming subspace transmission and one recorded priority message._

Sighing she sat down in her chair, turning to the desk. "Play the message first," she told the computer.

 _"Priority audio message from Headquarters: Admiral Crusher, your presence on Earth is required. In seventy-two hours you are to attend an interview with the Emperor's security police. You will be expected to explain the unauthorized use of your ship's cloaking device while in Klingon territory."_

She sat back in her chair, feeling the anger rising within her. The emperor's security forces hadn't wasted any time in reporting her presence within Klingon territory. But this was something that surely could be explained over subspace. The only reason Data would call her to Earth would be because he was aware of her larger plans.

She turned back to look at Geordi again. He was sleeping so innocently, but who really knew how often he communicated with Data? If anyone could find a way to do so without her knowing about it, LaForge could. But she hadn't told him anything of substance.

Facing the screen again, she saw that the incoming transmission light was still blinking. She tapped the screen, accepting the call.

Jean-Luc Picard stared back at her from screen. He didn't waste anytime, getting to the point. " _I need to know...was it you?"_

"What the hell are you talking about?" She inquired. "And where is my son?"

His eyes narrowed. _"You don't know where he is?"_

"No!"

" _We were attacked by a cloaked ship,"_ he said, trailing off. He seemed to be studying her expression.

"And you think it was _my_ ship?" His blank expression said it all. "You're still sleeping with Troi, aren't you? That duranium plate I put in your head may keep her from reading your thoughts, but it won't save you from her influence. Now...what happened, and why did my son flee your ship?"

 _"Flee? What nonsense, I've been getting along so well with the boy!"_

"When you lie, you really go for the absurd, don't you?"

" _Whatever motivated Wesley to steal one of my runabouts and leave unexpectedly is beyond me, Beverly._ _Who told you Wesley escaped my ship? LaForge?"_ He lifted his chin, as though making the effort to see behind her.

She moved aside. "Yes, he's right there in my bed," she said. "Is that enough, or would you like details?"

He stared at her. " _Why must you torture me?"_ he said hoarsely.

"Would I really be a true Terran, if I didn't?"

He shook his head and looked away from the screen, reminding her that she had missed seeing his profile, and that for such a cruel man he could at times be so delicate that it was confounding.

She paused, still watching him, when he turned back to face her.

"One other thing, Jean-Luc...no more attacks on Klingon territory for the foreseeable future. Make sure the word is spread, as this applies to all ships. Off the record, of course."

" _Off the record?_ _Is this a directive or a preference?"_

"Captain, it goes without saying that you should consider everything I say to you to be a directive."

How could he have forgotten? " _Yes of course, Admiral,"_ he said as pleasantly as possible.

"I'm glad you understand, Jean-Luc. Just make sure you follow my previous directive and meet my ship at the coordinates I provided."

" _About that meeting, Admiral..."_

"And I expect you to be on time," she added, anticipating his request for a postponement.

He hesitated, " _Understood Admiral."_

She allowed him a smile, but what she really meant to convey, he would probably never know. "Don't call me in the middle of the night again. I might be busy next time."

* * *

 **PRIME Universe**

Commander Riker leaned heavily against a wall in sickbay, and tapped his communicator. "Mr. Data, what's our current position?"

 _"We are fifteen hundred meters away from our last position outside of the spatial rift, Commander."_

"So...we're back in our own universe?"

" _Yes, sir. I made successful contact with Starfleet Headquarters."_

"Very good. Transmit a preliminary report of our encounter to headquarters."

" _Aye sir."_

"And warp status?"

 _"Back online, Commander, and repairs in engineering and here on the bridge are underway. Geordi has been released from sick bay after being treated for smoke inhalation and radiation sickness, and is back on duty."_

"Excellent."

 _" Unfortunately, sir the repairs will take time. We are currently operating at fifty-four percent efficiency."_

 _"_ Data, any idea how we arrived back where we started? It might give us some clues as to how we might return-not that I have any desire to do so at the moment."

 _"Unknown, at this time, sir. However, I will assess the records carefully, and share with you...the clues."_

"I'll also need to view the audio and visual files of the bridge starting from the point that we entered the mirror universe," said Riker. "Send them to the captain's ready room."

" _Yes, sir. Is there anything in particular you would like me to isolate?"_

"No, Data, just send it all...I have a hunch about something. For now, let's put some distance between us and these coordinates, and hope we can stay out of trouble while we recuperate. Riker out."

He shifted his position and turned to look over at the recovery bed. Lt. Worf was awake now, and had already expressed his desire to leave sickbay a number of times.

Doctor Crusher walked in and gave him a brief nod, before moving to Worf's side. He watched as she made the security chief flex his wrist and elbow, both of which had been broken in a still unexplained explosion on the bridge. She checked the dermal patches on the left side of his face and upper body, healing the burns inflicted by the blast. Riker marveled at her professional calm in the face of what had just happened.

"No," she was saying firmly to Worf. "You'll leave when I say you're ready. We'll reassess your fitness for duty tomorrow."

"Was the surgery successful?" Riker asked, when she turned around to face him.

She nodded. "Dr. Selar was able to remove the implant from behind Jack's eye. He sustained a severe concussion in that blast, and is still unconscious. It's amazing that he wasn't injured more severely."

"Yes," was all Riker could manage. He also had no idea what the hell had just happened on the bridge. But he wasn't about to mention this to his friend. He was sympathetic but had no idea what she must be thinking at this time.

She folded her arms, looking up at him. "I know the implant was important, Will, but it was causing bleeding, and we had no choice but to remove it."

Riker nodded, and put a hand on her shoulder. "Beverly, you and your staff did what you had to do."

For a moment she seemed to lean into his hand for support and he could see just how tired she must be. Just then the intercom broke in. _"Selar to Doctor Crusher. Captain Picard is awake."_

* * *

Picard thought he had been staring up at the ceiling with his eyes open, but in fact, his eyes had been closed, and he had been drifting in and out of consciousness. Now he heard the incessant beeping and whirring familiar to hospital settings, and this encouraged him to wake up, for he hated being hospitalized. Jean-Luc tried to open his eyes, but his eyelids were too heavy. What kind of drugs had they given him? Why was he here?

"He's trying to speak," said one voice.

"It's the anesthesia," said another. "It will take some time to wear off."

"What were the extent of his injuries?" said a third voice.

"The ribs on his right side were broken, he sustained a concussion, a collapsed lung and second degree burns, again on the right side of his body. The way he was positioned, and the fact that it was zero G...well the blast knocked him away. As with Jack and Worf it could have been significantly worse."

Picard opened his eyes, and could now see Riker standing above him. "What happened?"

Riker leaned over him. "Captain, you're going to be alright."

"Of course I am. Now what happened?"

Riker looked at Crusher. "Well, sir, you were injured in an explosion on the bridge...do you remember?"

Picard tried to sit up, but Beverly put a hand on his shoulder. "Shh...stay still. Your ribs are still healing."

He struggled for a moment more and then reluctantly settled back down on the pillow. "The last person I saw was Jack...was he injured?"

"Yes, but he's alive and in recovery," said Beverly.

"Good."

"Captain, Data had just boosted the structural integrity field, which absorbed most of the blast," explained Riker. "If you had been anywhere else but right next to the damaged hull..."

Picard shifted his gaze slowly to look at his first officer. "I would be dead."

Troi stepped forward. "Captain, what do you recall, if anything?"

He glanced at Beverly, who reached down and touched his neck lightly. "The gravitational systems went down on the bridge. That cloaked ship...it was just bombarding the bridge over and over, like it had a personal vendetta. Then I was floating up near the ceiling...I turned my head to see Jack and then I felt something slam into me very forcefully...that's it. That's all I can remember." He shut his eyes, and felt Beverly's fingers resting lightly on his neck again. He smiled drowsily and started to drift off again. He mumbled something, but couldn't keep his eyes open any longer.

* * *

Riker and Troi stepped outside with Beverly, and after a brief conversation, watched her walk away to the other side of sickbay.

Riker looked down at Troi. "We've got a problem, don't we? I've asked Data to send me the audio visual records covering the period when the blast took place, but..."

"Will, there is no doubt in my mind that Jack just tried to murder Captain Picard."

He nodded. "I was afraid you were going to say that."


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 25**

* * *

 **PRIME Universe:** **USS Enterprise**

"These are very serious charges you are making Commander," Phillipa Louvois said tightly. "As as a prosecutor and the ranking officer on this ship, with the exception of Captain Picard, who is currently in sick bay, I have to log this as an official complaint, and notify Starfleet Command."

"I understand that sir," said Riker. He glanced at Troi and Worf, who had been released from sick bay just an hour earlier. "We all understand that."

Louvois turned her attention to the other officers. "You concur with Commander Riker then...that Jack Crusher attempted to cause serious bodily harm to Captain Picard?"

"Oh, it's far worse...I believe he intended to murder Captain Picard," said Troi.

"And this belief is based on what?"

"On my personal observations of Jack's behavior, and his emotions," said Troi defensively. "Jack was absolutely shocked to see the mirror Enterprise, and I am certain he had never seen that ship before we did. His thoughts toward the Captain in the minutes before the explosion were cold, and calculating. He single mindedly wished to save his own life, and believed that by killing Captain Picard, he would accomplish this."

Louvois sighed and looked around the table. "Is that _it_?"

"Captain, my abilities might not have resulted in the kind of _hard_ evidence you are accustomed to gathering," Troi said, taking clear offense. "But everything I sensed from Jack is supported by the visual and audio record."

"Counselor Troi is correct," said Riker gravely. "After examining the visual records, I believe the charge that was detonated was planted somewhere on the bridge beforehand."

He pointed at a hologram above the table, which showed the explosion frozen in time. Riker gestured, and the scene was replayed backwards for a few seconds. "And you can see Jack here, just before the explosion...he makes apparent eye contact with the captain, then touches his wrist, but not before propelling himself away from a blast that hasn't even happened yet."

Louvois studied the scene a few times more. "It looks as though the explosion just came out of nowhere. It couldn't have been related to one of the many other fires present on the bridge?"

"Data looked into it. This was an isolated event," said Riker.

"What kind of weapon would detonate in such a way?"

"There are many weapons utilized by assassins which are banned by the Federation. Most of them are of Ferengi-origin, and not easily detectable," said Worf. "When Crusher first came on the bridge, prior to our transfer to the mirror universe, he stood next to me briefly at tactical, perhaps for longer than I should have allowed."

"And he could have planted something then?"

"Yes. In addition, Jack Crusher is still in possession of this...wrist band he is seen touching just prior to the explosion. Security was aware of this item, but we believed it to be a replica of an antiquated time-keeping device, and it was never examined or confiscated. This was an inexcusable error on my part."

"This isn't about the blame game, Worf," Riker snapped. "None of us expected to be in the situation we're in now."

"We need to get ahold of his wrist band," said Deanna.

Louvois leaned over the table, staring down at it. "Agreed. But the situation, as much as possible must be contained," she said finally looking over at Riker. "Has any of this information been relayed to Captain Picard, or Doctor Crusher?"

"No," said Troi. "Not yet."

"Well, as of now, no one is to say anything to them about our suspicions- and I do share these with you- until further notice. Understood?"

Riker stood up. He didn't like keeping either of them in the dark, but they were too close to the situation to aid the investigation. "Yes, Captain. The same should go for Wesley then as well."

"Very well. Before you go, I have something to share with you all," said Louvois. "I am disobeying orders from Admiral Nechayev, by telling you. The shuttle Jack was found floating in was determined to belong to the USS Phoenix. It had been altered, but it is from one of our missing ships."

Riker looked down at the table angrily. "How long have you known this?"

"Long enough to feel at least partially to blame for what happened to the captain," admitted Louvois.

Riker nodded grimly. "The only one who is to blame as far as I'm concerned is Jack." He turned to Worf. "You're officially cleared for duty, Lieutenant. I want you to ensure an extra security presence in main sick bay. We have no idea what Jack's motives are, and as long as he's in close proximity to the captain, there's a risk he could try this again."

"This will not happen again," Worf rumbled, before turning and leaving.

* * *

"Vulcan shuttle Tavek is requesting to dock in shuttle bay 2, Commander. The shuttle occupants declined our offer to use the transporter."

Lt. Commander Data tilted his head back to look up at the officer currently replacing Worf at tactical.

"Very well, Lt. Sanchez, please proceed with docking procedures."

"One of the shuttle occupants, identifying herself as T'Pel is requesting to be provided with a type C anti-gravity container. Should I send a security detail, sir? "

"No. I will proceed to shuttle bay 2, to greet our visitor," Data said, standing up. "Ensign McKnight, you have the bridge."

The young woman at helm was visibly surprised by the directive, but moved swiftly to relieve his post. "Aye sir."

* * *

When Data arrived in the shuttle bay carrying a large anti-grav cargo container in tow, he noted that the shuttle from Vulcan was already departing. A single tall figure, clad in a large brown cloak remained standing next to what appeared to be a large box, nearly one meter high.

As Data approached, he held out his palm in front of him in the traditional Vulcan salute. "Greetings, I am Lt. Commander Data, second officer and science officer of the USS Enterprise."

The figure carefully drew back the hood of the cloak to reveal an elegant countenance with olive skin, high cheekbones, and raven black hair. "I come to serve," said the woman, returning the salute. "I am T'Pel of Vulcan."

"Your service honors us, T'Pel of Vulcan," said Data, with the appropriate reply, dropping his hand to his side. He directed his attention to the box, which he analyzed was made of Tar'Hana sandstone, the outside of which contained forty-two different hieroglyphs in ancient Vulcan, and weighed approximately 200 kilograms. She had brought no other visible belongings with her.

"May I?" He nodded at the box, and then squatted down to pick it up, carefully placing it inside the floating anti-gravity container.

T'Pel watched him with perceptive dark eyes. "I will require a place to store this item, as well as a place to meditate."

"We have arranged for guest quarters, T'Pel."

"That is quite acceptable," she said calmly.

"Please follow me," said Data, gesturing toward the exit.

* * *

There were two things he was certain of: he was alive, and the implant was no longer in his head, because he felt very strange. More exposed perhaps...It would be more difficult now, he couldn't be as lazy about gaining their trust, because he didn't have the implant to rely on. The sudden realization that there was in fact an alternate universe had thrown him off. But not for too long. He now knew that whoever the Boss was, he really was from a mirror universe.

These people were clearly violent, but they also seemed to have more advanced weaponry. They had a cloaked ship that could fire when completely cloaked, which was truly amazing. Clearly they had other priorities than to seek out new life and new civilizations. There weren't too many dissimilarities, that he could see, between the sensibilities of the Terrans and his own personality-his true one, that is. And if the Boss still wanted this ship...well, maybe he could still bring it to him.

But there were other answers he needed now, for his continued survival depended on them. And judging by the look on the face of the kid sitting next to his bedside, getting the answers he needed wouldn't be too difficult.

"Wes...I'm so glad you're here," he said with a tired smile.

Wesley smiled at his father, and tried to recall the same feelings of affection he had been starting to feel prior to the ship's brief adventure in the mirror universe. But instead, he felt an odd reserve, as if he were meeting someone for the first time.

"I'm just glad you're alive, Dad," Wesley said quietly. "When I saw that blast-"

"What exactly did you see?" The question came out too quickly, he realized, but he was anxious to know whether Picard was still alive.

"It was pretty dark, with the red alert and everything...I saw you and the Captain." He looked up at Jack, as though beginning to ponder something disturbing and new. "I saw you move away, and then there was a blast."

"You mean you saw the blast blow me away from him..."

Wesley shook his head. "Uh...I'm not sure. Maybe?"

"Jean-Luc...He made it?"

Wesley smiled. "Yeah, he's in recovery a few rooms away."

 _Damn._ He returned the boy's smile as convincingly as possible. "Good."

 _Time to change things up a bit._ "Wes...you also saw what happened before we were attacked."

"You mean the other Enterprise, and other Captain Picard."

"That man will stop at nothing to destroy us," said Jack. "He's insane. And he's the one who kept me captive and tortured me for all those years. Now that he's seen he has a counterpart in our universe, he'll do whatever he can to pursue and kill us...unless we give him what he wants."

"It-it seemed like he was mostly interested in Captain Picard. Is that why he stole our ships?"

"That's right," confirmed Jack. "He set a trap for us, which we only escaped by the skin of our teeth."

"But we escaped because of Captain Picard," insisted Wesley.

"If it makes you feel better to think that, fine. But Wes, he wants Jean-Luc dead, and will keep hunting us down until he wins."

"That's never going to happen," Wesley said with a tremor in his voice.

Jack put a heavy hand on Wesley's shoulder. "Wes, I need to know that you trust me, and I can trust you. I need you on my side, no matter what happens next," he said looking into the young man's eyes.

Wesley shifted uncomfortably, but he nodded. "Okay, Dad."

* * *

Beverly inched into the recovery room, and was surprised to see not only that Jack was now awake but that Wesley was sitting with him.

She looked from one to the other. "Thank goodness you're awake, Jack," she said with a relieved smile. She put a hand on Wesley's shoulder. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"No," said Wesley, getting to his feet. "I just wanted to make sure he was okay."

Jack gave Wesley a friendly shove, and grinned up at her. "Isn't he a great son? Checking in on his old dad..."

Beverly experienced a strange feeling as she walked closer to the bed. Jack seemed different. She reached over to take his offered hand, and suddenly things seemed all wrong. She touched her forehead with trembling fingertips.

"You okay, Mom?"

"Yes, I...Wesley, could you give us a few minutes alone?" She brought her hand down to her chest unconsciously trying to steady her heart.

"Sure," said the teen, exiting the room with a backward glance.

Jack was looking up at her. There was something in his eyes that was unfamiliar, almost predatory. "So, that Vulcan doctor told me you had to take that implant out of my head..."

She nodded. "I'm sorry, Jack. We had to remove it, you would have died..."

"Hey...don't worry about it, are you kidding? You saved my life today-in more ways than one," he said, snaking his arm around the back of her thighs and pulling her closer. She tensed, but didn't resist. He looked up at her again. "Thanks to you, I'm feeling free now. Completely free."

He took hold of one of her hands. His touch seemed completely unfamiliar to her. She felt dizzy. Jack must have sensed she was losing her balance, because he gripped her a little tighter.

"Bev, what's wrong?"

"I don't know..." she mumbled, and then sat down on the edge of the bed. She took a few slow deep breaths through her nose, until she felt better. Eventually she laughed, and ran a hand through her hair. "I'm okay now. I don't know what that was."

"Well, it's been quite the day," Jack remarked, leaning back in the recovery bed.

"Yes. And I'm glad we both made it through." She took his hand in both of hers. "Jack...what happened up on the bridge today?"

"We were in the middle of a battle, and we lost gravity. There were electrical fires everywhere. I saw Jean-Luc," Jack frowned, as though trying hard to remember. "He was floating up close to where the hull had been damaged. You could stare right out of the rupture into space. Anyway, I tried to warn him about the breach, but the next thing I knew...bam-I was out."

Beverly shook her head. "Worf was injured in the explosion too. You all could have died."

She thought she saw something flicker in his eyes. Then he smiled and touched the side of her face. "But hey...we didn't. Now, when can I get out of this hospital bed?"

"I'm keeping you here over night," she said. "Just for observation."

"You're going to personally observe me then?" he asked with a sly smile. "Have I mentioned I'm beginning to feel a whole lot better?"

He tugged her down toward him from her sitting position, kissing her. Again, the sensation came over her that something was not right about Jack. She pushed herself away from another kiss, just as she heard a commotion behind her in the doorway.

"Sir, you really need to get back into bed!" a nurse was scolding from the doorway.

Beverly turned to look over her shoulder, instinctively moving away from Jack when Jean-Luc walked into the room. One side of his bare torso, neck and arm were covered with a white dermal regeneration patch. He stumbled against the doorway.

"Jean-Luc, what do you think you're doing?" Beverly got up quickly.

Picard glanced from Beverly to Jack and back again. He was obviously disoriented. He squinted and then pointed at the both of them. "What do _you_ two think you're doing in here? Together...I mean," he trailed off incoherently.

"Doctor, he won't listen to me," complained the nurse. "He keeps wandering from room to room."

"Tell her to stop following me, Beverly," he grumbled.

"It's the pain meds we gave him for the burns," allowed Beverly. "He's must be having a bad reaction to the tricederine."

Picard looked at her and his eyes were unfocused. "I was just looking for the baby," he said. "You said she would be here in sick bay."

She took hold of the arm on his uninjured side. "Yes, I did tell you that, Jean-Luc, hours ago. But now that it's all over, I brought her back to my quarters. She's safe now."

"You mean _our_ quarters," Jack said from behind her.

She stopped to look back at him strangely. "No. I meant _my_ quarters. Jack, just wait here, I'll be back soon."

* * *

"You'll be feeling better soon enough, Captain," Beverly said, leading him back to his recovery room.

He grunted, and shuffled forward unsteadily before sitting down on the edge of the bed. His skin was very hot to the touch, despite the cooling medications he had been administered. "Here, put your legs under the covers and lay back," she said, gently helping him. She pulled a hypo from her pocket and held it against his palm. "This will help make you more comfortable tonight, and even out your temperature. I promise you, you will feel _much_ better tomorrow."

He closed his eyes, but held fast to her hand. "I need to see Jeanette," he said softly.

She squeezed his hand in hers. "Of course," she said leaning over him to kiss his forehead. "I'll bring her here, just stay put. Alright?"

He nodded drowsily. "Alright."

* * *

"You have not inquired about the contents of this box," said T'Pel as she and Data maneuvered the huge cargo container through the doorway of her guest quarters.

"I wished to respect your privacy," said Data. "The sensor scans indicated the box is empty, and made of sandstone, therefore no security risk was indicated."

"As the human saying goes, appearances can be deceiving," said T'Pel. "The box is not empty, however, I assure you that it contains nothing dangerous. Unless," she fixed him with a hard look, "its secrets fall into the wrong hands."

Data raised his eyebrows. "I sincerely hope that such an occurrence does not happen. I will post security outside of your quarters," he added.

"You should do as you wish, in your discretion of course," said the woman, sounding unconcerned. She glanced outside of the viewport, as a small repair shuttle went by. "This ship was in a serious battle," she observed dispassionately. "And yet you are still here."

"Yes, we took significant damage. Our systems are operating at 71.2 percent efficiency at this time."

The former science officer of the _USS Stargazer_ did not seem impressed by those percentages.

"And did you make contact with the inhabitants of the so-called mirror universe during this battle?"

Data's smooth features twitched. "Yes. You are familiar with this phenomenon?"

"I would not exaggerate to suggest that I am familiar...however, I have some knowledge of the subject, which is one of the reasons why I have traveled here. Inside this box is an archive of information related to the mirror universe, and I anticipate it will be useful."

Data nodded. "Intriguing...I look forward to discussing this subject with you further, T'Pel, but I must return to the bridge. Is there anything that you require?"

"I will speak with Captain Picard when he is next available," she said, folding her hands inside the oversized sleeves of her cloak.

"Unfortunately, Captain Picard was injured in the battle. He is currently in sick bay."

"I am gratified that he lives," T'Pel said plainly, before moving away from Data. She sat down smoothly in a chair.

Data remained curious. "You mentioned that there was more than one reason you decided to come." He paused. "And I was wondering what that might be..."

She looked squarely at him. "When...officers serve together for a common cause, experiencing life and death situations...it creates an unbreakable bond of loyalty. Perhaps you are familiar with this concept?"

"I am," said Data.

She tilted her head slightly to gaze out the window again. "It is because of my bond with Captain Picard and Jack Crusher, a bond that endures even through death...that I must confirm a supposition with my own eyes."

"What supposition?"

"That the person Starfleet Command has ordered you to accept as Jack Crusher is in fact an imposter."

Data blinked several times rapidly. "I see. I will notify you as soon as Captain Picard is able to meet with you, T'Pel."

"Very well, I will meditate until that time. Thank you, Mr. Data," she said, pulling her hood down over her eyes once again.

* * *

Beverly walked into Jean-Luc's recovery room as quietly as possible, carrying the baby in a blanket. The lights in the room had been lowered by the nurse, and she could see he was now sleeping. She paused, not sure if she should leave, but then he stirred, and mumbled something.

"Who is it? Beverly?"

"Yes," she said, "It's me. I didn't mean to wake you, but I brought the baby."

"Oh good," he said groggily, sitting up against the pillows. He moved over and patted the bed next to him. "Please come in."

She walked in and sat down gingerly on the edge of the bed. He seemed much more coherent now, and she could see his eyes were more alert even in the darkness. He held out his arms, and she carefully placed the baby in them. "Careful, don't use your injured side," she said. He shrugged, and held Jeanette closer.

"I missed you," he whispered to the child. "You are safe now." He closed his eyes and sat back, still upright.

Beverly reached out and touched his face. "Jean-Luc, you're falling asleep again," she scolded him gently. He reluctantly handed the baby back to her. She gazed at him in the darkness, until his eyelids fluttered open again and his eyes met hers. "I could go," she offered half-heartedly.

He shook his head wordlessly, and reached his arm around her shoulders. She lay her head against his jaw, tentatively, before relaxing down further into his embrace. Rearranging the baby more comfortably against her chest, she heard a contented but exhausted sigh, and realized it was her own.

* * *

 **Hello thanks for your reviews and loyal readership, I am glad many still seem to be enjoying the story. The plot is evolving with each chapter, so we'll see what happens. Take care, PP**


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 26**

* * *

 **PRIME UNIVERSE**

Picard awoke with a start, clapping his forearm over his chest reflexively to keep the baby from falling. But as he sat up in the darkened room, he saw that he was now alone in the hospital recovery bed. Beverly and the baby were gone. The cloudy sensation of the sedatives had worn off, and he could feel his mind gradually clearing. Soon, he knew he would fully remember what had happened on the bridge, but more than that, he knew he didn't want to remember. He closed his eyes again and settled back down against the pillows, absently placing his arm over the area next to him where Beverly had been. Up until that moment a few hours ago, when he had felt the weight of her leaning against him, he had never felt completely comfortable in her presence, even when he had longed for so long to be there. But now he was. Now he knew. The welcome memory of the warmth of her body sent a buzzing orange haze of pleasure through his mind, and he smiled, relaxing his head against the pillow. A moment later, his eyes snapped open again, as a new image invaded this pleasant moment. Jack's face...just as he had been before the explosion. They had looked directly into one another's eyes as Jack had pushed himself away in the low gravity. _He knew what was going to happen..._

* * *

"Riker, you're acting as though I knew what the hell was going to happen up there on the bridge." Jack sat in the Deck 13 conference room, arms crossed, glaring upward at his interrogators. Riker glanced at Worf, and both men sat down on either side of Jack.

"Didn't you?" Riker glared back at him. "We just showed you the holo records, Jack. You rolled away from the blast before it even happened. You knew that charge was going to go off-"

Jack's features scrunched up in apparent confusion. "Charge? What charge? The ship was under attack!"

Worf held up a tiny object between his fingertips. "We found this fragment embedded in the deck."

Jack uncrossed his arms and squinted at the item. "So?"

"Our lab identified this as trademarked Ferengi material. It is commonly used to manufacture illegal weapons of a...secretive nature."

"Are you trying to suggest I tried to kill someone on purpose?"

"Not just someone," said Phillipa Louvois from down the table. She had been working on her data pad with an intense expression. Now she looked up. "You tried to assassinate Captain Picard."

 _Well, there it is._ Jack touched his still tender cranium lightly. "Look you guys rousted me out of my hospital bed, dragged me down the hallway-"

"You are exaggerating," Worf growled.

Jack slammed his fist on the table. "I demand to speak to legal counsel!"

Captain Louvois set the data pad down on the table. "But I haven't even finished typing up your arrest warrant." She leaned forward, clasping her hands together. "Now why don't you tell us exactly who you really are, and then you can speak to a lawyer."

"What the _hell_ is going on in here?"

The occupants of the room looked up to find Beverly Crusher standing in the doorway.

Riker stood up quickly. "Doctor, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Crusher's expression was defiant. "Commander, you kidnapped my still recovering patient from sickbay to interrogate him in the middle of the night, and you have the nerve to tell me to leave?"

Captain Louvois stood up. "Doctor, I realize it's been a long day, but this is very important business."

Crusher pointed at Jack. "His continued health is my business. So unless you have something more than business to keep him here, Captain, you will release him back to me _now_."

Riker looked at Louvois. They were close, perhaps they even had enough already to arrest Jack. But was this the time and place? Louvois gave him a reluctant nod. Riker motioned at Jack. "Fine, Lieutenant Commander. Please return to sick bay."

Jack stood up with a smile. "My request still stands. I'm invoking my right to legal counsel, so keep that in mind next time you want to chat."

* * *

Out in the hallway, Beverly caught his arm tightly. "Jack...what was that all about? Why were they questioning you?"

He licked his lips. "Oh, just part of the investigation about what happened up on the bridge."

She looked at him as they walked along. "It seemed like something much more than that. And you demanding a lawyer...Jack what is happening?"

He stopped and caught her in a hug. "I know, things have been happening so quickly. But it's going to be alright."

She returned his embrace. "I know. But-"

He touched the side of her face. "It's Louvois. I'm telling you, she's been out to get me from the start." He watched her face grow suspicious, but couldn't tell if it was the mention of Louvois, or if she simply no longer trusted him. _Damn I miss that implant._

"The start of what, Jack?" she asked cautiously.

He grinned. "Nothing." He tried to wince convincingly, which wasn't difficult, because his head still hurt. "Look, I-I'm not thinking very straight right now, I'm sorry."

Beverly squeezed his hand. "Okay. We'll discuss it tomorrow when you're feeling better. Now let's get you some rest, so you can heal."

* * *

"We need to make a move, and soon," Riker said gravely.

"We need to take him into custody," Worf agreed.

"I couldn't agree more," said Louvois, sitting down with a sigh. "But he's here on this ship, and he's not going anywhere. Besides, as your CMO noted, he's still recovering from his wounds. Another day to finish our investigation will make a stronger case."

"But now Jack's on to us. Which makes him even more dangerous."

"I will post additional security in sickbay, Commander," Worf said.

Riker nodded. "Make it so."

* * *

 **Several Hours later in Sick Bay...**

Jack edged into the room as quietly as possible. The room was very dark, save for a computer monitor which was making a slow beeping noise. His gaze immediately fixed on the recovery bed. Legs shifted, changing position, and then the figure was still again. _Good, he's asleep. He won't feel a thing._ In that moment, as he approached his goal, he was reminded that he had grown to like Picard-as much as he liked anyone. Getting to know Beverly had been fun as well. But although he always enjoyed a challenge where it came to women, she had been holding out on him. The bottom line was that he had to do the task the Boss had ordered him to do, even if it seemed futile. Because you never knew when he would have a chance again to enter the alternate universe, where it seemed he could start a new life and have a good time doing so. Because now he knew that The Boss existed in the alternate universe. So he had to make good on a promise.

Clenching the small laser scalpel tightly in his palm, he inched up to Picard's bed, hearing his own breath quicken with adrenaline. Suddenly Picard sat up. "Who's there?" he demanded groggily. He slowly swung his legs over the side of the bed. "Jack?"

Realizing he had no time left to reconsider, Jack attempted to continue his forward momentum, but was stopped in his tracks by what felt like a steel clamp on his shoulder. He attempted to turn his head to the right to see who had attacked him, but then he fell unconscious.

Picard scrambled out of bed as quickly as he could. "Lights!" he shouted, holding on a nearby table for support.

He blinked to find Jack lying splayed out unconscious on the floor, and a hooded figure standing just behind him. "Who-"

"Captain," said T'Pel, removing the hood of her dark brown cloak. "I believe that I just saved your life."

* * *

 _ **MIRROR**_

Wesley Crusher was a skilled pilot, and so the runabout gave him no trouble. Of course he had souped it up just to give it enough juice to make Picard decide it wasn't worth it to pursue him. Besides, Picard could torture Wesley as much as he wanted, but he would never kill him. Not as long as Beverly Crusher existed. His relationship with his mother had been complicated before his escape. But now, he had no idea what would happen, and who if anyone he would be able to trust anymore. He was taking a risk, he knew. Half of the power players in the Terran Empire would be looking for him now. But he had to know for sure. He had to know if it was true.

He tracked the cloaked ship using a tachyon detection sensor he had engineered in the days leading up to his escape. It was rough, but if he had time he could develop it more fully. Unfortunately, he'd been locked up in that damn agony booth for so long he had been forced to skip on some of the fundamentals just to get it done. But it didn't matter, because now it was working, and the cloaked ship now lay ahead of him.

 _We are within weapons range, sir._

Wesley ignored the computer, and slowed the craft to a halt leaving his shields up.

He wasn't prepared for what he saw in the next moments. The cloak shimmered away, and a battered vessel lay ahead of him. It was something from his childhood. Something from his dreams.

He heard the hum of a transporter beam before he could be sure what was happening. In the next moment he was on a darkened bridge. He walked forward, seeing a figure sitting in the command chair, but then halted, suddenly paralyzed with fear.

The figure waved him closer. "Come closer." The voice was gravelly, damaged, and distorted. "I know it's hard to see, but I can't stand the lights on anymore. It hurts too much.

Wesley took a small step forward. "Who are you?"

"Welcome aboard the _Stargazer_ , Wesley."

Wesley hesitated, but then gained the courage to step forward into the shadows. Once close enough to establish eye contact, he stopped again, and caught his breath. The face was scarred, almost deliberately so. And yet still recognizable, older but very familiar.

"Dad? Dad is that you?"

Jack Crusher leaned forward into the light. Thin scars crisscrossed the skin on his face and neck. There were healing dermal patches on his hands. "Yes it's me, son. I guess you could say I'm back from the dead."


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 27**

* * *

 **PRIME**

Picard pushed himself up, straightening his stiff back and ribs. He blinked twice, unable to believe what he had just witnessed. "T'Pel..."

"Captain," she acknowledged simply. She looked no different than when he had last seen her, with the exception of her style of dress. She was still beautiful in an understated way, displaying the same quiet confidence he had relied on for so many years, and which he had at one time been so attracted to. And she seemed impossibly calm for what she had just done, which from what he could tell had been to nerve pinch his best friend into unconsiousness.

"What have you done?" He knelt down next to Jack's inert form, placing his palm on the man's back. He was breathing at least. "He's alive," he said, relieved.

T'Pel watched as Jack's foot twitched. She deftly kicked the laser scalpel farther away from his body, should he wake up earlier than expected. Because of the dim lighting in the room, she considered that perhaps her grip had not been as effective as it could have been. "I believe he intended to harm you, Captain."

Picard saw the scalpel on the floor nearby, and began to crawl on his hands and knees toward it, but T'Pel stood in his way. "He will be waking soon, Captain. You must call security and take him into custody."

Picard stood up again slowly, holding his side. "T'Pel, I realize it sounds unbelievable, but the Admiral must have briefed you. This _is_ Jack."

"No, he is not Jack. He is an imposter, which makes him quite dangerous."

Something in Picard's expression shifted, as though he wanted to believe her statement, but he held out his hand. "Listen T'Pel...you haven't been here. You don't know-"

"Captain, I do not fault your confusion...however, if you do not contact your security forces immediately, I assure you that I will."

* * *

"What were you doing in the captain's recovery room?"

"Riker, what the hell are you talking about?" Jack glared down the table at Riker, as Worf stood behind him practically breathing down his neck. _Man I hate Klingons._ "I was in sickbay sleeping, and the next thing I know I wake up on the floor of another room, surrounded by security goons." He rubbed the right side of his neck. "It feels like someone slammed me in the back of the head with a disruptor and then left me for dead."

"You attempted to murder Captain Picard...again. You are fortunate that she allowed you to live. She could have easily broken your neck," rumbled Worf.

Jack turned to look at Worf in confusion. "She?"

Riker sat down on the edge of the table. "Explain the scalpel Jack."

"I don't know a damn thing about a scalpel," Jack said stretching his arms with a yawn.

Riker pointed at him. "Just like you don't know a damn thing about our missing star ships, right Jack? You _never_ knew a damn thing, and yet you almost got all of us killed as part of your little game. Who are you, and what are you doing here?"

Jack leaned forward with his elbows on the table. "Riker, how many times do I have to ask for a lawyer? Or at least bring Jean-Luc in here. I need to talk to someone who's reasonable." He smiled. "Better yet, I want to see my wife."

Riker shook his head. "No chance. You've already done enough damage in manipulating those people-people who loved the real Jack."

"Get Jean-Luc in here, or I'm not saying another word," Jack suddenly demanded.

"Here I am."

Jack turned to the door. Picard stood in the doorway, and walked forward. Beverly followed him in, and then a strange Vulcan woman dressed as a monk, stepped in quietly behind them. Jack stared at her for a few more moments, as he tried to quickly recall the hundreds of holos he had studied of the real Jack's old life. "T'Pel," he said with genuine surprise. _Shit._

Picard and Beverly kept their distance, watching Jack with mutual anxiety. "We're both here," said Picard, his voice nearly a whisper. "T'Pel has explained why she felt the need to come all the way to the Enterprise to see you for herself. And now we need to hear it from you." He reached out to take Beverly's hand in his own.

"Hear what?" Jack said, watching them both with an innocent expression. "Beverly, what is all this about?" He started to get up, but Worf dropped a heavy hand on his shoulder.

In a few graceful movements, T'Pel had moved into the room and sat down adjacent to him at the table.

Jack stared at her cautiously. "T'Pel...long time no see."

She tilted her head at him. "Perhaps your memory is faulty, for we have never met. Or perhaps you have been deceiving others for so long, that you now believe your own lies."

He laughed and slapped his palm on the table. "Come on! It's me...Jack."

T'Pel placed her hands inside her over-sized sleeves. "Jack Crusher is dead. Therefore, you are not him."

Beverly put her arm around Jean-Luc's waist and leaned in to him for support, unable to look at Jack. It was difficult enough to hear the words she thought she would never have to hear again. Except all those years ago, it was Jean-Luc who had told her. _Jack is dead._

At that moment, Phillipa Louvois walked in to the room, carrying a data pad with the Federation seal visible. She walked to the end of the table opposite Jack and sat down, placing the tablet down with a click. Her expression was intense, but she said nothing, just gave Jack a curt nod.

Jack licked his lips and turned back to T'Pel with renewed confidence. "Maybe they haven't told you, T'Pel, but that night when you thought you saw me die...I didn't. Another Jack from an alternate universe transported into this universe in my place. He's the one who died that night, T'Pel. Not me." He looked around the room. "Instead I was left in another universe, tortured and trapped...abandoned." He tried to appeal to Beverly again. "Bev...it's me! Are you just going to let them do this?"

Beverly keep her gaze fixed on the floor, but Jean-Luc could actually feel her body trembling next to his. He put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed.

T'Pel looked at him directly. "Many years ago, I witnessed Jack Crusher die in an accident. One which was preventable, but at the time we were unaware of it. Twelve years ago, the _Stargazer_ was passing the moon Taltus III, when a distress call was received. Because there were no detected life forms, Jack and I were dispatched to investigate further. Soon after, we entered a derelict base located on the moon, triggering ion interference, which disabled the Stargazer. As the distress call was apparently a trap, the Captain ordered us to beam up. Jack initially refused, believing we could eliminate the interference using the station controls. I recommended that we destroy the station from orbit. Meanwhile as Jack and I argued, the interference increased, and the use of the transporter was now ill advised. The Captain then beamed down, with a device to boost our transporter signals. That was when the explosion happened."

"Why are you telling me this? I know this, T'Pel. I was there!"

"No..." she paused. "When the control panel exploded and Jack was gravely wounded, I saw Jack fall, and Captain Picard was at his side, attempting to help him, putting pressure on his wounds. While I configured our beam out, in those seconds, I saw someone else...for years I believed that what I experienced that night was a hallucination-perhaps caused by the trauma of those moments."

Jack squinted at her. Where was she going with this? "You saw someone else? What are you talking about?"

"I saw another person, standing several meters away from Jack and Jean-Luc. It was a man, who looked exactly like Jack. He was not surprised to see us there, not in the slightest. In the next moment, I ran to Jack and Jean-Luc, and the man disappeared."

A heavy silence filled the room.

"Over the years, I have become familiar with an alternate reality, which the Federation has termed the 'Mirror Universe'. I now believe that the man I saw that night was indeed Jack. But it was Jack from the Mirror Universe."

"This has to be some kind of joke," said Jack, struggling to reassess his situation. "Because when I was held captive all those years, the people from the alternate reality believed I was their Jack, at least at first."

"Enough," said Picard with quiet anger. "I don't want to hear anything more from you. We've all heard enough for now."

"So...are you going to arrest me as Jack Crusher? Just who do you think I am, if I'm not Jack?"

"Perhaps you are Jack from the Mirror Universe," T'Pel suggested with a raised eyebrow.

For the first time, he felt the situation was out of his control. He attempted to get up again, but Worf's grip on his shoulder was immovable. "Wait-look, let's talk this through."

Phillipa Louvois stood up. "Fortunately for me, I don't require your actual identity to arrest you. Accordingly... John Doe number 34872, you are under arrest pursuant to Starfleet security orders 102, and 113 for the attempted murder of Jean-Luc Picard."

Worf seemed to take pleasure in yanking Jack up out of his seat, and placing his hands behind his back in restraints. The man didn't struggle, but glanced around the room coldly.

"You'll be sorry you did this," he promised them. "All of you."

Worf turned him around pushed him out of the room.

Picard averted his gaze, still emotionally stunned by what was happening in front of his own eyes.

Beverly blinked back tears, and let go of Jean-Luc. The pain in her eyes made him instantly sad, whereas before he had been confused and angry. "I have to go. I need to be alone," she whispered.

Picard watched Beverly leave, forcing himself to remain still. He would talk to her later. They would overcome this together. He rubbed his forehead tiredly. "Now what?" he said to no one in particular.

T'Pel stood up. "I have traveled here with more than one purpose, Captain. I bring information from the archives of the oldest library on Vulcan."

"Information?"

"Yes. And with it, we will locate your missing Starfleet ships and their crews...assuming they are still alive."

* * *

 ** _MIRROR_**

 **On board the IMS _Contagion..._**

When Picard and Riker stepped down off of the transporter platform, Beverly Crusher and Geordi LaForge were already waiting with a small security team.

Picard raised his arms up in the air with an expression of mock concern. "Are we under arrest?"

"For being the finest Captain and First Officer in the fleet, no doubt," Riker chimed in.

Crusher ignored them, and gestured to one of her officers. "Search them."

Picard winked at Beverly with a smirk, as the officer patted them down.

"They are unarmed, Admiral."

Beverly finally addressed them. "Not even a knife, Jean-Luc? Feeling very confident, I see."

He gave her slight bow. "Being in your presence has a certain effect on me, Admiral. As you may recall..."

She leveled a steely glare at him. "This meeting will be a quick one. I'm needed at Headquarters."

Picard's eyes flashed. There she went, flaunting her authority in his face, once again, after dragging him halfway across the galaxy. The Emperor wanted to see her. How interesting. "Of course, Admiral," he said with a tight smile. _And me without my precious decoys. Perhaps I'm in luck...perhaps she doesn't intend to kill me this time._

The four officers walked quickly to a nearby conference room, the security officers apparently knowing enough to keep their distance now. Crusher halted at the door. She exchanged a meaningful look with Picard, who was careful not to appear surprised. She wanted to talk to him alone. They both turned back to Riker and LaForge. "Wait here," they said together, before disappearing into the room.

* * *

Riker sniffed in, and shrugged his shoulders. "You have to wonder why he brought me along at all. If she decides to kill him today, I'm not exactly the most reliable witness."

"True." Geordi nodded in agreement. "No Troi?"

Riker leaned in. "Troi's in a very bad mood lately."

LaForge exhaled and leaned his head back against the wall. "When Troi's in a bad mood, people die."

"That's right. And she and the Admiral don't get along, particularly where Picard is concerned. So, unless you want to be one of those dead people, be glad she didn't make the trip here."

They fell silent for a few minutes.

Riker yawned, feeling totally bored, as he watched LaForge moving his fingers weirdly back and forth in the air in front of him.

"What are you doing?"

LaForge's brow creased. "I'm _seeing."_

Will stroked his beard fondly. "Oh...new eyes, huh?"

Geordi straightened his shoulders, but said nothing.

Riker suddenly grinned down at LaForge. "So...how did you manage it, Geordi?"

Geordi glanced up at him sharply, curling his seeing hand into a fist, before dropping it to his side. "What?"

Riker looked at him. "Come on...how did you manage to get on the Admiral's good side? And by good side I mean, how did you find a way into her bed? I never even came close, and it wasn't for lack of trying. Besides, you've got no game. Me on the other hand..."

"Sometimes it's better not to examine the reasons why," said Geordi. "All I know is, it's the right move for me right now."

"Right move? Yeah, that's one way to put it. Just know that she's using you."

Geordi made a face. "So? Of course she is. And I've never enjoyed being used so much."

Riker laughed. "And so...where's your little friend? He took off with my runabout, and hasn't been heard from since." He poked LaForge in the chest. "And don't pretend you don't know."

"I haven't heard from Wes in a while. But believe me, as soon as the Admiral finds out who drove him off the Enterprise, _they_ are done for," he said pointedly.

Riker's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.

* * *

"After all we've been through, Jean-Luc you know I've really only learned one thing?"

He smiled at her, sitting down slowly. "And what might that be?"

"We'll never be able to trust each other."

"Oh come now, Admiral. I have only your _best_ interests in mind."

"Do not talk to me as if I am an idiot!" she suddenly shouted at him. He settled back against the chair, looking up at her. "You constantly plot against me behind my back, Jean-Luc. The only thing you care about when it comes to me, is finding a way to unseat me from power."

"That's not true, Beverly," he protested. And this time, he was telling the truth.

He watched her walk away from him, and reach for something on a counter top. Turning back around, she held it up in her hand. "Do you know what this is?"

His mouth went suddenly dry as he eyed the small pink vial between her fingertips with suspicion. "No doubt what you intend to be the instrument of my demise."

"You brought it on yourself, Jean-Luc."

He sighed. "You may be right."

She walked forward, still holding the vial in her hand. But something in her expression changed. Something he had missed seeing. She closed the distance between them, leaning over him. He grew very still, when she dropped her fingertips onto his knee, not taking her eyes from his. He was careful to watch her with his coolest, most alert gaze. But the touch of her hand ignited his skin with a pleasant heat. "If I can't trust you, then eventually I'll have to kill you," she murmured. He was about to respond, but she brought her fingertip to his lips. She hadn't been so close to him in ages, it seemed, and as much as he intended to remain stoic, he was aching for her. She seemed to know this. There was no need to ask her what she was doing. Of course, they'd been through this before.

"But it doesn't have to be that way," she leaned in to whisper in his ear.

"It doesn't?" Feeling the heat of her breath on his neck, he smiled, and rubbed his cheek against hers.

Apparently she didn't want him to return what was supposed to pass for her affections, because she grabbed him under the chin and squeezed. "I _need_ your allegiance. Now more than ever. No more games."

"You need my allegiance...or you will kill me," he clarified.

She let him go roughly. "This virus could kill everyone on board your ship. And it will, once I give the order."

He gripped the arms of the chair tightly. Damn her! She must have already had one of her spies plant it on board the Enterprise! It was all he could do to remain seated. She had made a fool of him one too may times. But when he stared into her eyes he could see something else. A desperation. She had too many enemies now, so many that she was growing paranoid. And she had plans, he could tell. She was trying to make a big move. What it was, he couldn't be sure of.

"I still love you," he said, surprising himself. He knew it would not be enough to stop her from killing him, but he hoped it would somehow matter to her. Her face softened slightly, but she still studied him with careful suspicion.

She straightened up and backed away from him a few steps. She reached up behind her head and took out a pin, loosening her long red hair from its tight bun, causing it to cascade invitingly down over her shoulders. "You have ten minutes to prove what you just said to me." She reached down for his hand, which he grasped. "Your life may depend on it," she added, pulling him into her arms.

Out in the hallway, Riker glanced up at various crashing sounds coming from inside the room. He smiled down at Geordi. "Now if that's not the sound of true love, I don't know what is."


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 28**

* * *

 _ **MIRROR**_

 _ISS Enterprise_

Commander Deanna Troi tapped her fingernails on the armrest of the command chair. Ever the control freak, Picard forbade anyone from sitting in his chair even when he was off ship. But Troi was completely safe, as no one would dare to inform on her, at least no one currently on duty. She glanced around the bridge, satisfied with the lack of prying eyes. As soon as Picard and Riker had beamed over to the _Contagion_ , she had ordered a roster change, replacing the captain's stooges with her own.

She'd long ago come to the terms with the fact that she would never inspire the natural loyalty that Picard did. But that didn't mean she couldn't manage to gain the loyalty of the crew by other, equally persuasive means. Fear was her most trusted friend, and all of Picard's egotistical rants would not save him from that fact. And time was on her side. Just because she and Riker had missed their first opportunity for an escape into the Lesser Universe did not mean another opportunity would not arise. The runabout had been Will's idea, but then of course that little twit Crusher had nabbed it. And as long as he lived he could expose her plans. She should have known better than to listen to Will. They needed to think bigger. For the kind of havoc they wanted to wreak in the Lesser Universe, they needed a starship. And to obtain one, all she had to do was lead Picard down the path of his own destruction.

She didn't flinch when Picard and Riker walked back on to the bridge. Of course she had known they were present as soon as they'd beamed back on board. And she still chose to remain in the chair.

"Get out of my damn chair," Picard barked, approaching from behind.

She rose gracefully, with a sideways glance at Riker, who as usual, was grinning widely. Unhurried, she returned her attention to Picard with a sly smile. "Captain, I trust you and Admiral Crusher came to a mutual understanding."

Picard smirked, dropping into his chair with a self-satisfied sigh. "You might say that. I would have preferred a lengthier conference, but..."

She leaned in. "And so there's no need for those decoys any longer? All safe and sound now, are we?"

His smile faded. "Can't you let me bask in the afterglow just a bit longer? Of course we're not safe and sound," he snapped. "She's determined to kill us all, and she has the means to do so. The plan stands."

Troi placed a seemingly gentle hand on his shoulder. "So glad to hear it is still one for all and all for one, as you so often say, Captain."

* * *

 **Elsewhere...on board the ISS Stargazer**

"What happened to you?" It was a loaded question. Wesley knew his father had been banished from the Terran empire a decade before, so it was surprising that he was still alive. That he bore many scars from his ordeal was not a surprise.

Jack looked down at the thin scars lining his arms and hands. The ones on his face had not healed well due to his poor medical supplies, but this was just one of many hardships he had faced over these past years. "I was banished years ago, as your mother has no doubt reminded you over the years."

"She said you attempted something so stupid, she didn't think you were even worth killing."

"Wow. And now can't you see why I fell in love with that woman?"

"To be honest, no."

"Well, it was her and Jean-Luc who betrayed me and banished me to indentured servitude with the Ferengi."

"They sent you to serve the Ferengi? But the Ferengi are under Terran dominion. They serve us!"

Jack's lip curled with disdain. "Exactly. Your mother and Jean-Luc intended to humiliate me a hundred times over...and they succeeded. The indignities I suffered..."

Wesley sat down in the empty seat at helm. Come to think of it, the entire bridge was empty. His father must have completely lost his mind if he thought he was going to take on Captain Picard with this floating piece of garbage and no crew to speak of. "Picard told me you tried to kill them both, and that you got what you deserved," Wesley scoffed.

Jack sat back and put his hands behind his head. "Only because I knew what they had planned for me. I'll admit, I acted rashly, but then that's what happens when you're in love. Someday you'll understand."

Wesley shook his head. "Uh...no I don't think so. In fact, I think I've already learned that lesson just by looking at you."

Jack laughed. "Oh these scars? No, I did this to myself. Pretty recently actually."

 _Yep, he's crazy alright._

"You cut yourself? Let me guess...because you were in love," Wesley sneered.

"No, I did it for revenge. Because there had to be a way to show them that they didn't win. That it was possible for me to have the last laugh."

"And? I don't see you laughing. Look, I came here because I was hoping it was you...couldn't be sure of course, but I guessed it was you. And that's why I started supplying you with information, letting you mess with the Enterprise. I'd like to see Picard and my mother thrown off balance a bit. They've both grown so paranoid, I wouldn't mind seeing them have to actually worry about a real threat for once. But seeing you now, sitting here dear old Dad. Not impressed, not in the least."

"Well, I guess I can stop wondering if you turned out like your mother-"

"And it's a good thing I did!" Wesley gestured dismissively at Jack. "Look at you, you're pathetic."

Jack leaped to his feet, his rage suddenly bubbling over. "Pathetic people don't survive the humiliation of being a Ferengi slave, son. And pathetic people don't make the kinds of intergalactic deals that will change the face of the Terran Empire."

Wesley leaned against the helm and stared at his father, finally hearing something that interested him. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about making decisions that will put us where we want to be, son."

"Us? _We_?"

"Well you're here now. So you can help your old dad, can't you?"

"Help you do what?"

"Help me get my revenge."

"And so by cutting yourself...?"

"I used my own DNA to create a lure for Jean-Luc's counterpart in the Lesser Universe. The fact that Troi stole those ships only made the trap easier."

"So you made a clone of yourself," Wesley said. "I'll admit it's kind of cool."

"He's no clone. He's just a petty criminal who was willing to give up his identity in order for me to carry out my elaborate plans in exchange for a big payday."

"What are your plans?"

"I want the Enterprise from the Lesser Universe in my possession."

"That's it? You want his ship."

"For starters. Of course I want so much more."

"But I can tell just by looking at you, that things haven't gone exactly the way you expected. You're worried."

Jack looked down at the deck. "After you fed me the information about Beverly's plans to kill Jean-Luc, I began to worry he might try and use his counterpart as a decoy, and attempt to escape her. If he escapes her, he escapes me. Which I cannot allow. I tried to order my operative to kill the other Jean-Luc, but something's happened. I lost the ability to control my look-alike, and he may even be dead. Without him I'll have to find another way to attract the Lesser Picard and his ship into our universe."

Something occurred then to Wesley. "So all of this means that in their universe Jack Crusher doesn't exist."

Jack suddenly looked crafty again. "He doesn't-at least not anymore. In fact I witnessed his death about twelve years ago."

Wesley crossed his arms. "So if you have this all figured out, why do you look like you're almost desperate for my help? You're not just working on your own, are you? You owe someone something...possibly your life."

"For now, I'll admit I have other...allies. Powerful ones too." Jack's eyes glittered in the dim light of the bridge. "But I still need my son, Wes. And I have good information that you know the Emperor well."

Wesley laughed, sort of surprised by the shift in subject matter. "Data? Maybe. At least, I used to."

"I do need your help, Wesley. I need you to help me remove and retrieve the Emperor's head."

* * *

 **PRIME**

"Forgive me, T'Pel, but that makes no sense. Why would the archives on Vulcan have information about our missing ships?" Picard sat at the conference room table with most of his senior officers while T'Pel explained her story. Beverly was back on duty in sickbay after a brief retreat to her quarters. She had requested to be excused from this meeting, which he had allowed. Meanwhile, the man he had finally allowed himself to believe was his old friend Jack Crusher was currently sitting in a detention cell under arrest for attempting to murder him. The man's true identity was still unknown. The whole thing was so surreal, he was glad to return to work. Unfortunately, the task at hand was hardly a mundane one.

T'pel put her hand on the large sandstone box in the center of the table which had recently been transported from her guest quarters. She pulled a small object out of her sleeve and stood up, placing it against the side of the box, resulting in a low cracking noise. Slowly, a hiss of air released a puff of sand into the air, as all sides of the box separated and pushed downward until they were flat on the table.

Troi coughed, waving her hand through the sandy haze that now permeated the room.

"Our sensors detected the box was empty, Captain," offered Data.

"There are in fact thousands of pieces of information stored inside," said T'Pel. "It is sophisticated cloaking technology which keeps the contents quite well disguised as though they are merely air."

"But cloaking technology is illegal on Vulcan and everywhere else in the Federation," said LaForge.

"That is correct," she allowed. "But this is not Federation technology."

Picard leaned forward, growing somewhat irritated at being kept in suspense. Where had she been all of these years, and what was she doing with this bizarre contraption? "Please go on."

"Several years ago, I achieved the Kolinahr."

Picard raised his eyebrows. A Kolinahr Master. It seemed his friend had achieved what very few Vulcans had; the ultimate triumph of logic over emotion, and an immense philosophical and personal accomplishment. "I see."

"During my earlier studies, I was required to read and memorize many historical texts. On one such occasion, I was asked to examine the contents of this box, because of my special training as a Starfleet officer. What I discovered was quite remarkable." She held up the tiny device she had previously used to open the box, and a tiny star map materialized above the now flattened container. As she magnified the map, they could see various blue dots in the midst of otherwise familiar star systems.

"What are we looking at?" Riker questioned.

"These spheres represent constructions called Ion Stations. We encountered one in 2354 the night that Jack died, although we did not know it at the time. There are at least 30 of these stations currently in existence."

"Who built them, and for what purpose?"

"T'pel turned to Worf as he asked the question. "Individuals from the mirror universe built them roughly fifty Earth years ago. They are in effect bridges between this alternate universe and our own."

"And is this what we encountered just hours ago, which drew us into the mirror universe for a short period."

"That is highly likely, Captain," she said.

"Captain," Data said, pointing to one of the blue dots. "One of these stations is located at the approximate coordinates where we entered the mirror universe."

"And let me guess...our missing ships were taken by one of these thirty ion stations," said Riker, squinting into the floating star field.

"That is also highly likely, Commander," answered T'Pel.

"Yes, but if this is all true," interjected Troi. "It still does not explain how the Vulcans came into possession of this object, or the knowledge it contains."

Picard looked pointedly at his old friend, who remained impassive. "The architect of these ion stations was a Vulcan," said T'Pel. "Certainly you are familiar with Spock. In fact, the Spock of the mirror universe was just as prominent as is his counterpart in this universe."

Picard sat back in his chair. "Amazing," he whispered. "Spock."

"This box represents a time capsule of sorts, left by Spock on one of his final journeys from the mirror universe into our own. According to his historical records he rose to prominence as Emperor of the Terran Empire in 2278 despite his status as one of the so-called lower species. He was revered for his logic, and his ability to terrorize with minimal violence. One of his greatest achievements was the invention of the ion station, the first of which he built himself. After encountering the crew of the Enterprise from our universe in 2267, he conceived a way to traverse the two universes. Eventually once he became Emperor, Spock's attempts at reforms proved too revolutionary for the Terrans, and attempts on his life became so frequent that he escaped for a time into our own universe, leaving a very detailed record of his life, after which he disappeared."

Picard got up slowly. "If everything you've said is true, T'Pel, someone on the other side of that mirror has been trying to lure us there. To bring us to the other side." He glanced at the stoic Vulcan. "If there's a way to find our people, we are going to find one of these ion stations, and we're going to travel into the mirror. And this time we won't fail."


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 29**

* * *

 ** _MIRROR_**

Geordi tapped his fingertips and then let them rest on his chest. She must have known he was looking at her, but her eyes remained fixed on the ceiling above her bed. Currents from the ship's air filtration system swirled blue around their bodies, but of course she did not see their beauty as he did. Sometimes he would describe out loud the appearance of the most mundane objects in her quarters, which she seemed to find amusing and fascinating at the same time. He knew that presently she was deep in thought, because she blinked her eyes at a slower rate, which he had come to recognize from her as introspection.

She turned away from him then, leaving him to face her back. He knew she would remain awake still, because they had been together just long enough for him to know that she regularly had difficulty sleeping in the early morning. He imagined she was thinking about her next move, and wondering whether her enemies would be able to anticipate it. Maybe she was even wondering if he was her enemy.

He reached out to touch the pleasing curve of her hip, but at the last second, dropped his hand on to the bed, deciding it wiser to leave her alone. The usual warm red-orange shimmer that lay on her skin after sex was cooling more quickly than it had in the past. The dust in the air between them shone bright green from the reflection of the ultraviolet lights which were now increasing their level of output because it was now "dawn" on the ship. The time also meant that the ship had arrived at Earth and she would be readying herself mentally for the next challenge. If she was anxious about her meeting with the Emperor's security forces, she didn't show it.

Finally she sighed, and he knew that was a sign that she was open to talking. Unfortunately what she said next, made his heartbeat pause, as the temperature dropped a few degrees inside his chest. "Do you think he still loves me?"

The genuine emotion in her voice made him immediately think of Picard, and a flare of jealousy warmed his chest again. His jealousy was tempered of course by fear of Picard, but also of Crusher, who would likely have no patience for such weak emotions, if she found him to be harboring them. But then a few moments went by without his reply, and it clicked inside his brain. Wesley.

The evening had begun with his receipt of an encrypted transmission from Wesley Crusher, and of course, he had passed most of the information to Admiral Crusher, who was very pleased to learn that her son wanted to meet with Geordi. Wesley claimed he had important information to share, Geordi had told her. Did it matter to her, that Wesley hadn't mentioned her at all? No, not one bit. It was characteristic of Wesley who was known for his petulance and entitled attitude, almost as much as he was known for his genius intellect. All she had needed was the possibility of good news, and she had made her interest clear to Geordi earlier that evening. Still now, he was aware that he had waited too long. "Uh...I-"

Beverly twisted back toward him and sat up in bed, pulling the covers to cover herself with uncharacteristic vulnerability. She looked down at him in an accusing manner, and it was clear that she was displeased by Geordi's hesitation. She hated to appear weak, especially where it came to Picard. "I was _talking_ about my son," she said defensively, taking in Geordi's bemused expression.

"Of course!" LaForge sat up beside her. "I'm sure Wes still loves you," he reassured her in his most agreeable voice, but the damage had been done.

Her face contorted with anger. "Get up!"

"Look, I didn't mean anything-"

"Get _out_ of my bed," she yelled, kicking him with her bare foot. LaForge was not surprised. He had done the unthinkable and caused her to think of Picard, which was enough to send her into a rage anytime.

He obliged wordlessly, sliding out of bed. He grabbed his pants, and stood there silently. Maybe she would change her mind. After all, he wasn't due on the bridge for another hour...

"Well don't just stand there, get out!" she snarled, throwing the rest of his clothes toward the door.

* * *

"Deanna, you have to let this one go. If Crusher had help escaping in the runabout, it wasn't from his mother. According to LaForge, she doesn't have a clue what is going on with her son."

Deanna slid a slim knife into her boot, as she finished getting dressed. She adjusted her hair carefully in the mirror. "That doesn't change the fact that she's a vindictive, controlling bitch who would just love to see me fail."

Riker watched Troi skeptically. So much for letting this one go. "So then let's not give her the satisfaction of seeing us fail. Who said we had any intention of failing?"

Deanna allowed him a half smile, unable to resist his trademark grin. "What are you thinking?"

"You're right...we need to think bigger. We need our own ship."

Deanna walked toward him slowly. "You're not suggesting what I think you are?"

Will's grin widened. "No, not the Enterprise...we'll take one of the Starfleeter ships you captured."

She shook her index finger at him. "It's not that simple, Will. He knows about those ships, and I know him. He's going to try and take them for himself, especially since he hasn't captured his elusive double from the Lesser Universe yet. And neither have we," she added.

"We don't need our counterparts, Deanna...all we need is the right moment and we can literally jump ship into the Lesser Universe."

"So...we convince Picard that the captured ships are worth plundering...all we need to do is get him there. The ships are all floating next to an ion station, so we'll have the means to cross over."

Riker nodded. "As long as he thinks the Admiral wants him dead, he's going to be just desperate enough to listen to us."

Deanna crossed her arms. "But does she really want him dead? You told me about their little meeting. And he was positively glowing when he returned."

He shrugged. "With them it means nothing. They're always on the verge of either fighting or fu-" Will cut off quickly, turning toward the door. "Did you hear that?" He turned back to her. "Picard's spies are everywhere, Deanna. If he finds out-"

She grabbed his hand. "He won't. I had my people dismantle his surveillance devices, which he had planted throughout my quarters. He's nothing if not thorough. But his time is coming to an end, as he will soon see."

Riker laughed. "I kind of feel sorry for him."

Deanna smiled up at him. "Oh no you don't..."

* * *

Picard sat stony-faced, as the recording device played. Yar stood silently in the corner of his room. She'd intended to leave once she delivered the Captain his listening device, but he had ordered her to stay. It was all she could do to remain silent when she heard Troi and Riker's voices gloating...planning their betrayal of the Captain. She'd shoot them both dead before that happened. But for now, she stood glaring in the corner, watching as her beloved Captain sat as his desk in humiliation, listening to the device. Once it was through, he stood up slowly, still looking down at the tricorder, which held the device. Suddenly he grabbed the tricorder and hurled it into the wall of his quarters. "Traitors!"

He stalked around his desk, and locating the mangled tricorder on the deck, lifted his boot and smashed it to pieces. He pointed at Yar. "How long have they been plotting against me?"

She shook her head slightly. "Sir, I don't know-"

"You don't know? You're my Chief of Security, Lieutenant Yar. And you don't know?"

"I'm sorry sir. Just give the word and I'll have them thrown into the agony booth for the night."

He paced furiously back and forth. "The agony booth is too good for the likes of them. Damn those fools! They plan on leaving me to die at the hands of my ex-wife, while they scurry away into the Lesser universe like the cargo rats that they are. Well, I'll tell you Yar...the last person who tried to escape me that way found out the hard way."

"Yes sir."

He looked at her with pity. "They never intended on saving you, Natasha. Because you should know this...you have no counterpart in the Lesser Universe. If Beverly-if the Admiral sets loose that virus on board the Enterprise, when we leave our counterparts to die in our places, there will be no one to take your place."

She shifted from foot to foot. "I know, sir."

"You know? How do you know?"

She swallowed, covering her heart with her hand. "I don't know, sir. I just always felt like I was the only one...the only me, I suppose."

He nodded grimly, and walked over to her. He put a hand on her shoulder. "I want you to know I never intended to abandon you, Natasha. You are my most loyal officer."

"Aye sir."

He squeezed her shoulder. "We'll wait on the agony booth. For now, I'll let them believe I am the fool they seem to think I am. And when the moment is right, we will repay their treachery tenfold."

"Yes sir."


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 30**

* * *

 ** _MIRROR_**

 ** _ISS Stargazer_**

Wesley leaned on the ops station and stared around the _Stargazer_ bridge with growing disdain. Old, dusty and empty...seemingly just like the brain of his dear old dad. He'd made a poor decision, that was for sure. Being on the Enterprise was a good gig, compared to the potential, or lack thereof, he saw in front of him. A hundred nights in the agony booth might be his punishment if he went crawling back to Picard and Riker. But it was Troi who made him really think twice. She had that particular way about her that made you wish at times that you'd never been born. "You're delusional," he laughed.

Jack jumped up from the Captain's chair, and walked forward, and Wesley could more clearly see the eerie scars on his father's face and hands. "Am I?"

"What you're talking about is treason. You just told me you want me to help you cut off the Emperor's head."

"That's right! And what of treason? You're a Terran after all, and these things shouldn't bother you," said Jack.

"What bothers me _Dad_ is your complete lack of a plan."

"Just because I haven't told you what it is, doesn't mean I don't have a plan, son."

"And you just expect me to follow along behind you like a lost puppy? I had a good ship, which I left behind-foolishly. If I had any allegiance to you, I'd be embarrassed."

"And so who exactly do you have allegiance to, Wes? Picard drove you off of his ship. Don't you see, you and I are the same? What he did to me so many years ago, he's done to you already."

Wesley turned his back on his father and walked away. He abruptly turned around accusingly. "You and I are _not_ the same! Forget that he's the Emperor...you're asking me to help kill one of the people I most respect. Data has taught me more than you ever will."

Jack shook his head. "You're not speaking like a Terran, son."

"I'm more of a Terran than you ever were! And now, what exactly are you supposed to be?"

"Whatever else I am, Wesley, I'm your father."

Wesley waved dismissively. "We're nothing alike."

Jack had begun to work himself up, and fury shone in his eyes. "I'm going to change the dichotomy that has persisted for so long in our society, Wes. The myth that the powerful must triumph over weak. What in fact is weakness Wesley? Not you and me...not us!" He thrust his scarred fist in Wesley's direction. "We are survivors, Wesley. Now are you with me, or not?"

* * *

 _ **Imperial Medical Ship, Contagion**_

Beverly Crusher had finished dressing, and was checking her most intimidating expression in the mirror when the subspace communications relay began to beep. She swore.

 _Incoming message from the Enterprise._

She swore again and walked over to her desk. She refused to sit down, because she knew who it was, and she never liked to so easily give him his way. Besides, she was on the verge of being late for her meeting. Whatever he had to say, he'd better say it quickly. "On screen."

Picard's bearded face gazed roguishly up at her from the screen.

"What is it now?" she demanded.

 _"After what we shared yesterday, I expected you to be happier that I called."_

"What we shared yesterday lasted a mere ten minutes," she reminded him coldly.

 _"I would have preferred at least twenty, Beverly, but you set the time frame, not me-"_

"Should I add that it was a forgettable ten minutes? At least for me..."

He sighed. _"Admiral, now that you've once again made me feel the least significant man in the Empire, might I have a serious word with you?"_

"Go ahead," she allowed.

" _I have been...considering what you said to me."_

"And?"

 _"If you're to have my allegiance, I want something in return."_

She began to laugh, and then ceased doing so abruptly. " _You_ want something in return for giving your allegiance to me? Jean-Luc, I thought I made clear that _if_ and only if I have your sworn allegiance and a credible commitment of starships and personnel, I'll cancel my plans to kill you. My terms were quite clear."

 _"It turns out that I can get you an unlimited supply of ships and people, which is far more than you asked for, or judging by the look on your face, what you expected."_

She knew he was trying to gauge her level of surprise, and so she remained calm and in control. "Where from?"

He thought of Troi and her stolen ships. Where there were a handful of ships, there were hundreds more obtainable from the Lesser Universe. Troi had plans to enter the alternate universe and rule as some kind of evil mind-reading queen. He admitted, it was clever. But her plan would hardly be seen to its fruition as long as he was alive. _"I'm afraid I can't tell you, Beverly. At least...not until I can be fully assured that you no longer intend to murder me."_

She struggled to maintain her calm in the face of his tiring arrogance. _"_ Well I can _assure you_ that I am capable of giving the word to release the virus as soon as we are done speaking, Jean-Luc. Do you think I won't?"

He smiled just as smugly as ever. " _And yet, yesterday you told me you needed my allegiance. And that you needed me. Might have said it more than once, now that I recall...but what are mere words in the heat of passion?"_

"I said no such thing-"

 _"You specifically used the word 'need', Admiral. And I must say, that indicates a level of desperation I've rarely seen where you are concerned."_

"State your terms," she snapped.

 _"I want half of the Klingon colonies."_

She leveled her gaze at him. "I told you to stay out of the Klingon territories, Captain."

" _And I have obeyed you, thus far, Admiral. But you're asking me to forsake my nature...I miss the action of battle as we expand the Empire's territory. I am an ambitious career-driven man, Beverly._ "

"You are a selfish, greedy man, Jean-Luc."

His self-serving smile filled the view screen. _"And yet when we're alone together, I can be so generous and giving."_

"I can honestly say I've never met a man who thought as highly of himself as you do," she said.

His smile remained, but she saw the anger in his eyes. _"Perhaps..."_ He paused, and she could tell just looking at him what was coming next. _"When are you going to drop the engineer, Beverly? He's half the man I am, and you know it."_

She laughed. "I don't know where you're getting your information from this time, Captain, but you have been misinformed."

She watched him squirm visibly in his seat, but then he shifted topics again. " _I want the Klingon territories once you've been coronated as our next fearless leader, or it's no deal, Beverly."_

She leaned down toward he screen. "Have it your way, Jean-Luc. There's no deal then. I'm not giving you anything more, including the Klingon territories, and anything else that you might be wanting."

 _"Touche'!_ " He actually shouted into the view screen. " _And if I decide to enter Klingon territory anyway? What then?"_

"Then I suppose this is the last time I will see you alive, Jean-Luc. You can only challenge me so many times, and get away with it."

Before he could get in the last word, she quickly shut off the transmission. "Damn him...I can't let him destroy my alliance with Worf. I just _knew_ he would try and force my hand."

* * *

 **Terra**

She was expecting guards, more than one, so she wasn't immediately alarmed. But as they approached, their boots clicking in simultaneous rhythm, she saw that they appeared identical. She kept her hands neutrally at her sides, noting that in fact, each was an identical version of Data, as he would appear with Borg implants. She'd only seen a real Borg once or twice, and seeing the face of someone so familiar to her deliberately mutilated by implants was off-putting to say the least. Apparently the temporary Borg alliance was not so temporary after all.

"Admiral Beverly Crusher," the guards said in unison, as they halted nearby. Their voices sounded like hundreds of speakers at once. "The Emperor demands an explanation for your unauthorized entry into the Klingon sub-territories."

"I was summonsed here on official business," she said coldly. "Therefore, I'll give my explanation directly to the Emperor...in person."

"That is not possible. You will speak to us."

"No...I won't, except to demand an audience with the Emperor." She knew it was the height of audacity to make such demands, but she stood her ground. She was interested to see Data, to learn just what he was up to, and what he intended to do now that he had joined the Terran Empire with the Borg. She glanced around her and saw no normal Terrans. Nearly everyone she saw was wearing some kind of implant, some more invasive than others.

"You may not view the Emperor."

"Why?" She didn't really expect an answer.

"The Emperor is unwell," the Borg Datas said in unison.

Crusher's eyes narrowed. "Our exalted leader is not well? Whatever seems to be the trouble?"

The Borg Data closest to her blinked three times quickly in that way Data had. Processing some kind of new information.

"The Emperor will allow you to send a proxy in your place."

"A proxy? There's no need. I am a physician, surely I should see the Emperor if he is unwell."

The Emperor will meet with your proxy, but he will not meet with you."

Crusher threw up her hands. "I have no proxy-"

"You will send Geordi LaForge. The Emperor will meet with Geordi."

* * *

 ** _ISS Enterprise_**

When Picard stormed on to his bridge, he felt strong and alive and assured of his place in the order of things. She wouldn't kill him. She _needed_ him. But you know, if she truly intended to destroy his crew, then she simply would. There was little he could do to prevent it now, what with her deadly virus already on board. The odds of him finding his Lesser counterpart again was unlikely. He had to find a plan B. But if she wanted him dead, he might as well go out while enjoying his life, and engaging in one of his favorite activities; antagonizing Klingons. And then, if they made it out alive, he might allow Troi and Riker to indulge in their escape fantasy, might allow them to carry out their plans just far enough before exposing them for the traitors they were.

He nodded at Yar, who had replaced Troi's latest puppet at tactical. "Load the torpedo bays lieutenant-every last one of them. We're going to go enjoy ourselves-perhaps for the last time!"

"Aye sir."

Troi had been standing in front of the forward view screen facing away from them, and turned around with a placid expression. "Captain, might I ask what you are planning?"

He fell into his chair and pounded his fists on the armrests. "Oh great fun, Troi! Helm, set a course for the Govah system: warp 8."

Riker stepped down from the surveillance station to approach Picard cautiously. The Captain sounded as if he was in a jovial mood, which for the rest of the crew meant a bloody battle was possible. And he didn't like the sound of where they were headed. "Captain, the Govah system is in Klingon territory...specifically the unconquered provinces."

"I _know that_ , Number One. Do I look like a fool to you?"

Riker smiled, but wisely said nothing.

Picard suddenly leaped to his feet. "Do I look like I don't know what I'm doing?" he shouted to the bridge crew. His shouts were met with silence and wary stares from the crew. "Then when I give the order to set the course, you set the damn course without question." He sat back down.

"Course laid in," said the woman at the helm.

"Engage," said Picard happily.

Riker sat down on one side of Picard, and Troi on the other.

"Captain," ventured Troi. "Did you by any chance have a communication of some sort with the Admiral this morning?"

"Why?"

"I'm just wondering, as I am sure the rest of the crew is, why we are headed into Klingon territory. As you know, the Admiral issued a directive to all ships prohibiting travel in that region." She watched his face change, and knew he was in self-destruct mode. Crusher had said something to get under his skin, and now he was brazenly defying her, and so anything could happen.

Picard said nothing, but scratched the back of his neck. Just the mere thought of battle, made the tactical implant buzz in anticipation.

"Captain," Riker said, leaning in. "Once we've concluded our...business in the Klingon territories, I have a suggestion for our next destination."

Picard frowned, playing dumb. "Oh?"

Riker handed him a data pad, which Picard studied briefly. He raised his eyebrows and turned to Troi. "This is the ion station where you've kept the captured Starfleeter ships?"

"Yes sir. And might I suggest that our plan to lure the Lesser versions of ourselves still stands. There is no reason why we can't lure the Lesser Enterprise again with the promise of their ships. We can make it as clear as possible to them that in fact their ships still exist, and when they arrive we will spring the trap."

Picard nodded with a crafty smile. "Assuming, Troi, that we don't find ourselves ambushed once again by an unknown cloaked vessel..."

"Well, yes, Captain. I suppose that anything can happen."

* * *

 **Hey, thanks for reading and reviewing, I truly appreciate it. Have a great week... -PP**


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 31**

*To make it less confusing, Jack's imposter will be referred to as "M" (as in the beginning of the story) since his real name is unknown even to the writer.

* * *

 _ **MIRROR**_

 _ **Klingon Bird of Prey, To'ral**_

Captain Worf's thoughts drifted. He'd spent the better part of the last hour glaring from the ceiling to the armrest control on his command chair. It had been less than a week since his clandestine meeting with the Federation Admiral, and he'd managed to secure a number of allies and resources. Almost enough, he was confident, to satisfy Admiral Crusher for the moment. It hadn't been easy, as there had never been a reason before to trust a Terran. In fact, "Never trust a Terran" was one of the more popular sayings throughout the Alpha and Beta Quadrants. So despite Worf's efforts, there was resistance. The House of Duras in particular had been making things difficult for Worf, with Lursa even going so far as to threaten to expose his loose alliance with Admiral Crusher to the High Council.

But then Worf was a member of a growing number of Klingons who believed that a reformed Terran Empire was better than a new Terran Empire ruled by the Borg. There were many who agreed with this approach. There were worse offenses than aiding an insurgency against the current Terran Emperor-an Emperor who was so rarely seen nowadays. It was unlikely that the majority of Terrans realized the grave threat that the Borg represented to their dominance, as most were blinded by the belief that the Terran Empire would never be defeated. But the Klingons and other subjugated cultures could already see otherwise, and could imagine that it might already have been too late.

Why not allow the Empire to simply fall? Because without Terran military might, the Borg would swallow up everything in their path. Everything. And yet Terran power alone would not be enough to stop the Borg. And Worf had a feeling about Admiral Crusher. Although as arrogant as any Terran military commander he had met, and seeking her own power and glory to be sure, Crusher was wise enough to realize that she needed the Klingons in order to defeat the Borg. This ability to set aside her ego, even temporarily, set her apart.

"Captain...Lursa of Duras has sent an audio subspace message," his second in command reported.

Worf rolled his eyes up to the bridge ceiling once again. "Play it."

 _"Worf...your boldness is being tested. Weak-minded Klingons fall into step behind you without question, not unlike the mechanical beings you claim you intend to defeat..."_

"Rrr...get on with it," Worf growled.

The recording continued. _"But there are some among us who expect and deserve more, Worf! I demand to speak to the Terran Admiral myself. You said she agreed to allow a Klingon to sit on the Terran Council. Clearly it is I who has a claim to that seat. After all, my family's rule-"_

"Shut that off," growled Worf. "Her voice makes me consider jumping out of the nearest airlock."

His communications officer paused the recording. "Do you intend to send a response?" She asked gruffly.

Worf stood up. "No, let my brother deal with her. I have no patience for political matters."

"Forwarding the message to Commander Kurn," confirmed the officer with a smile.

"Captain, we have an incoming ship...it is a Terran imperial star ship," reported tactical.

Worf sat back down. "Heading?"

"Right for our coordinates. Distance is 100,000 kellicams and closing at 1/2 impulse power. They will intercept us in ten minutes."

Worf gripped the chair tightly. He had been assured that there would be no further encroachment into Klingon territory. Had Crusher been lying to him? "Run a scan of their defensive and offensive capabilities."

"They are heavily armed with superior shields."

"Cloaking device?"

"None sir."

"Hail them."

* * *

 **Terran Headquarters**

Beverly Crusher sat glaring at the door, alone in an empty room. She'd just been informed that her "proxy" and unofficial second in command Geordi LaForge would be meeting with the Emperor. In the same few moments, she had learned that Emperor Data was "unwell". The choice of Geordi was a little too convenient for her liking, given his friendship with Data. Her combadge buzzed.

 _"LaForge to Admiral Crusher."_

 _Right on time. I wonder, does he think he has an advantage now?_ "Go ahead," she said coldly.

 _"Admiral I was just contacted by the Emperor's security force. I've been summoned to meet with the Emperor-"_

"I know," she snapped. "And this is a surprise to you, Commander?"

 _"Yes!"_

"I'll expect a _reliable_ report from you, upon your return, Commander."

 _"Of course, Admiral."_

She listened for the cynical comment, the gloating insinuation that he now had leverage, power over her. But she heard none of that in his voice. Yet.

She stood up, and moved toward the door. She might as well return to the _Contagion_ and wait for Geordi's re-emergence from a safer vantage point. But as she approached the door, it swished shut. She impatiently slammed her hand on the control panel. The door did not budge. "Dammit!"

"Security, this is Admiral Crusher. There's something wrong with this-"

 _"Admiral Beverly Crusher you are being detained until further notice,"_ she heard multiple voices declare. _"Your complete cooperation is expected._

* * *

 **PRIME**

* * *

M had fallen asleep-more than once. He hadn't decided his next move, although he had the beginnings of an idea. The crew would be trying to track down their missing ships, which would require some kind of contact with the mirror universe again. If he wanted to jump ship and have another chance at a new life, that would be his chance. Maybe if he was lucky he'd even get to meet the Boss. But first, getting out of this cell would be tricky.

Thankfully, Louvois and that damn Klingon had finally left him alone with his thoughts. So far, he hadn't admitted to being anyone but Jack Crusher. They could refer to him as John Doe all they wanted. But he would remain Jack for as long as he needed to.

Suddenly the Klingon Worf appeared outside of his cell, accompanied by Wesley. He could tell immediately that the kid was still confused. In the past, that had turned out well for him...causing confusion. No reason to stop now.

Worf put a hand on Wesley's shoulder. "Please limit your visit to twenty minutes, ensign. I will be waiting for you in the corridor." He turned his sharp gaze to the prisoner before leaving them alone.

Wesley paused outside the cell. Seeing his father inside it just added to his anger and confusion. Now that he was here, he had no idea what to say.

M got up and walked toward the force field separating him from the teenager. "I know what you're thinking Wes. But it's still me...no matter what they've told you."

"Mom said you tried to kill the captain-"

M shook his head vehemently. "It's not true, son."

Wesley's brow furrowed. "Why would she lie?"

He shook his head again. "You still don't see it, do you?"

"What? I don't know what you mean."

"Wes, there are some things going on with your mother that she might not have wanted to tell you."

Wesley stared back at him.

"I'm in the way here, Wes. I'm not wanted here. People move on, and that's what Beverly did."

"Look, that's not fair. Mom's always put me first and then her patients before even herself sometimes. She's never even had a serious relationship since you-"

"What? Since I died? Wes, I am here. Right in front of you!"

"Sorry, but it's not right what you said about Mom."

"But she has a new baby. It's obvious to me that she is starting a family with Jean-Luc. I would have thought it would be obvious to you too."

"No, it's not like that...they're just friends...mostly I mean."

"Wes, I've never lied to you before, and I'm not going to start now."

"My mother hasn't lied to me either."

"Maybe she's never needed to. Look, people believe what they want to, even sometimes seeing things that aren't there. Maybe they're all still in denial. But no matter how many times they say I'm not Jack Crusher, it doesn't make it true. I don't know if you know this, but Starfleet ran every kind of DNA test on me back at that star base, and there was no reason to question my identity as Jack Crusher. Then, Jean-Luc's old friend Phillipa Louvois got involved and came on board. Her sole purpose was to discredit me, and now look at me...she got what she wanted. I'm locked up on trumped up charges."

Wesley leaned his elbow against the wall and looked down at the floor. "It's all just so hard for me to wrap my head around. Captain Picard almost died in that explosion on the bridge-"

"So did I! Look, of course you're confused...I get it. But your mother is being manipulated, and let's face it, she's still in denial after my return. Just a few days ago she was telling me how much she loved me, and now this. Trust me, son, you're not the only one who's confused."

Wesley scratched the back of his head. He wasn't sure what to do, but he didn't feel he could just walk away from his father. "Well...is there anything that you need? Anything that I can get you?"

M smiled. "Remember when you told me you would stand by me? That's all I need right now, Wes."

* * *

Beverly pulled an anti-grav cart next to a shelving unit, and began to unload emergency supplies. The ship had already experienced battle, and given the way things were going recently, she knew it was reasonable to expect more trouble. It was a task she would normally assign to an assistant, but keeping busy felt good, better than nearly everything else. She nearly jumped, hearing footsteps behind her. She turned to see Deanna approaching. Suddenly angry, she resumed what she was doing without a word.

"Beverly...may I speak with you?"

"Speak all you want, as long as you aren't expecting a response from me."

Troi hesitated, but then continued her approach. "I know you're angry with me," she said quietly.

"I'm just busy," said Beverly, marking off some of the inventory with a stylus.

"Did you tell Wesley yet?"

"What was I supposed to do? Keep it a secret?"

Troi blinked, smacked by her friend's anger. "It's a shock...you're allowed to be angry."

"Thank you for your permission." Beverly slammed the inventory list down on her cart. She wanted to yell, but the next words that came out were more like an accusatory whisper. "You _knew_. You knew and you didn't tell me."

"I-I'm sorry Beverly. But there was an investigation. We didn't tell you or Captain Picard because-"

"We? Oh it was a conspiracy then. Let me guess...Captain Louvois." Beverly smiled coldly. "Yep, that's what I thought."

"It will get better. Once things return to normal-"

She angrily wiped at the tears that clouded her eyes. "Things won't return to normal, Deanna. Things are never going to be the same again." She clutched her coat closer around her, as though seeking protection. "That man is still on this ship. You don't even know the things he said to me...the things I said to him, I allowed him to be close to me, to touch me-because I believed he was Jack. How could I have been so stupid? Everything that happened here is a complete lie, a violation, don't you see?"

Troi took her friend's hand. "I do see. And I am so sorry for everything, Beverly. But I am here for you, I promise. When you want to talk."

Beverly took her hand away, but there was less anger in her expression than before. "I don't know if I will ever be ready to talk about this. Please, just leave me alone."

* * *

Picard, T'Pel and Riker sat staring at the spherical holograph T'Pel had brought aboard from the Vulcan Archives. She had revealed just hours ago that Spock from the mirror universe had not only invented the concept of the ion station, but had himself traversed the universes, leaving behind in this universe, some very specific and helpful information about the ion stations. And now it was believed that the ion stations held the key to locating the missing Federation ships.

Data stood nearby tapping calculations into a data pad."I believe I have located a Federation subspace frequency, Captain."

"The missing ships?" Riker said hopefully.

"It is quite faint, but yes, Commander. It is a Federation signature. There are no other Starfleet ships currently assigned to that area of space. The signal is static, indicating the ship is not moving."

"If the ship is located in the alternate universe, then how are we even catching that signal?" Riker asked.

"No doubt you encountered a similar phenomenon when you were approaching the ship that drew you into the mirror universe using the ion station," said T'Pel.

Riker nodded. "That's right. We were aware of the other vessel across some kind of rift before we were drawn in."

"The ion station is a bridge to the other universe, a location where it is possible to transmit and receive across dimensional planes."

"Can we narrow down coordinates?" Picard demanded.

"Approximate only, Captain. The signal is located very close to the Romulan neutral zone."

"Damn," said Riker.

"Unfortunate," said T'Pel.

Picard tightened his fists. "We shall have to tread lightly then. But it hardly changes our mission."

Data was studying the floating star field closely. He tapped at his data pad again. "I have it." He pointed at the holo. "An ion station is located here in the Devron system, Captain, which is on the edge of the Neutral Zone. I am transmitting the coordinates to the helm now, sir."

"Estimated time of arrival at warp 8?" Riker asked.

"Seven hours," Data replied.

"Very good. Please coordinate with Mr. LaForge and ensure that the ship is ready for our next encounter with this...parallel universe." He tapped his com panel to signal the helm. "Mr. Crusher-"

"Captain, this is ensign Kaplan. Ensign Crusher is not currently on the bridge."

He paused. "Understood. Ensign plot the course Mr. Data just transmitted to your station. Warp 8."

"Aye sir."

Picard glanced at Riker. "Did Mr. Crusher request to be relieved from his shift this morning?" As far as he knew, Wesley was as yet unaware that the man pretending to be his father was now in a detention cell. He had been asleep when the incident in sick bay occurred, and was now scheduled for bridge duty. Picard had hoped that by being on duty, the young man could avoid the immediate trauma his mother had experienced just hours ago.

Riker cleared his throat. "Captain...I thought you knew. Doctor Crusher requested he be removed from the roster an hour ago."

Picard looked at Riker and then down at the table. _The boy must know then, now._ All of the events from the previous night came back to him, and he was almost overwhelmed by his own exhaustion and continued feeling of shock. "Thank you. Dismissed."


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 32**

* * *

 _ **MIRROR**_

As Geordi LaForge stood outside in the main courtyard of Headquarters, he was inwardly chilled by the dead quiet of what once was a bustling area full of Terrans. He noticed there were fewer trees than he remembered, and he waved his hand around in the air, which seemed different, stale and acrid. He had been ordered to wait here in this spot for a security escort. But no one had appeared yet. He considered calling the Admiral, but didn't because he had no particular reason to do so, and she might read through his weakness. He knew he was beginning to develop feelings for her, when in the beginning he had only sought her company for a political alliance and physical gratification, and perhaps for the thrill of being near someone so powerful.

But he now knew he was living on borrowed time. If she tired of him, or he lost his connection to Wesley, she might decide to do away with him permanently. And even if she decided to keep him around, the next time he encountered Picard, he would not be so lucky to be ignored. Picard did not allow himself to even appear to be a fool for long. It was simple. He needed leverage, something to keep his value for Crusher, and to convince her that he was a worthy partner. So far she hadn't told him directly what she was planning, but it was obvious that she was mobilizing a coup against Data. It was time for him to decide which side he was on.

Suddenly his data pad buzzed at him. He tapped it and saw the same encrypted code he'd received the other day. A moment later, Wesley Crusher's face filled the tiny screen. "We need to talk, Geordi. But I may not have time to meet with you in person after all."

 _Little twerp._ "The Admiral will be disappointed. Busy schedule?" Geordi asked.

Wesley grinned. "You might say that." Something was off about the kid...come to think of it, for once he actually appeared to be happy or at least very pleased with himself.

It occurred to LaForge again that the Admiral would be waiting for him to report in after his meeting with Data, and now he would have to choose whether to mention that Wesley had called. Wesley was again putting his life at risk by involving him in a crazy scheme. "What are you planning, Wes?"

"I can't get into all the details right now...but let's just say you're going to do me a favor."

Geordi laughed. "Oh really? Actually it's the other way around. You owe _me_. You never would have gotten off the Enterprise alive if it wasn't for me."

"I could have come up with that auto disable code on my own, and you know it!"

"But you didn't, did you?"

"Still sleeping with my mother?"

Geordi struggled to maintain his composure. "What the hell does that have to do with anything?"

"First of all...it's gross. All those years you were pretending to be my friend and mentor, you were really scoping out my mother."

"I can assure you, there's nothing gross about it, from my perspective," Geordi said, although unable to deny the second part of Wesley's accusation.

"Gross. Secondly," said Wesley, "I'm curious how she would react if I called her and told her that _you're_ the reason I had to flee the _Enterprise_ and am now being held captive by a madman."

"That's a lie...and you're joking about the madman, right? Come on..."

"Maybe. Doesn't matter, she'll be so glad to hear from me, she'll believe every word I tell her. Besides, she's been betrayed by so many men, Geordi, you'd just be one more."

LaForge went cold. "You wouldn't..."

"But what would she do? I mean...given her history of overreacting when it comes to my welfare..."

"What do you want, you little shit?"

"I need the schematics for Data's entire upper torso, and I need you to help me find a way to remove his head without killing him."

Geordi paused. _What the hell?_ "Okay, let's assume, what you just suggested was completely rational...why would you want to do that?"

Wesley faltered for a moment, and his coloring changed. _He doesn't really know the answer to my question._

"I can't tell you everything right now. Look, where I am right now isn't ideal. But I can't return to the _Enterprise_."

"Why?"

 _"Why?_ Are you stupid? Troi will kill me on sight."

"Same old Troi."

"No, no, this time she actually has a reason to want to kill me...Troi stole someone else's ships as part of some kind of larger plot against Picard-"

"Interesting. Whose ships?"

"I can't tell you yet. But then I sold one of those ships-just a crappy little shuttle...to my current associate. By now, she must know I did it. And I also stole her runabout. Anyway you look at it, I can't go back. I'm a man without a ship."

"A boy without a ship," Geordi corrected him.

"Shut up."

"Wes, who are you conspiring with? What would you _do_ with Data's head, if it was even possible to remove it and smuggle it out of Headquarters?"

Again Wesley hesitated. "You could benefit from this too, Geordi. I know your new implants can record and store more data than your Visor, so just record the information for me, alright? That's all I am asking."

"For now."

"Right, for now it's all I'm asking."

"And you're assuming that I will have a chance to get close to him while I'm here."

Wesley smiled. "I have inside sources."

LaForge laughed. "Since when? Who are you working with?"

"I told you, I can't tell you yet. But if you do this for me, we can be friends again."

"And if I don't do this for you?"

"I told you, I'll tell my mom."

* * *

 ** _ISS Enterprise_**

"Closing in on the enemy ship, Captain," Yar announced. "Do you wish a tactical assist?"

Picard relaxed into his chair. "Yes. In fact, Lieutenant, I want you to handle all weapons during this battle."

Riker glanced over at him in surprise. It wasn't like Picard to give up control of tactical, not where his glory was on the line. Especially now with that Borg implant in his neck.

Yar straightened at her post, looking very proud. "Aye sir."

"The Klingons are hailing us, Captain," Troi said carefully. "They demand to know what we're doing in unoccupied territory."

"Eventually all Klingon territory will be under Terran control, Troi. It's only a matter of time."

"Shall I convey that to them, Captain? Do you wish to respond to their hail?"

He ignored her. "Helm, set attack pattern Picard 1AA. Increase to full impulse."

Riker hit the intercom. "Battle stations. Prepare for glory," he announced in a bored voice. Something was going on with Picard, but he couldn't be sure just what.

"Attack course laid in. Ten thousand meters."

"They've raised their shields already."

"Weak!" Riker laughed.

"So typical of Klingons," Troi agreed.

"Ready torpedoes," Picard barked.

* * *

 _ **Klingon Bird of Prey To'ral**_

"Captain, the Terran ship is ignoring our communication."

"Raise shields, and hail them again."

"Nothing sir."

"They have increased to full impulse and are headed directly for us!"

The forward view screen showed the attacking ship hurtling toward them.

"Evasive maneuvers," Worf shouted.

"They are firing torpedoes!"

The ship shook violently.

"Fire at will"

"Our shields have taken extensive damage," announced tactical. "They have passed over us, and are firing phasers."

"Fire aft proton torpedoes."

"Direct hit, Captain. The enemy is turning about, increasing speed again."

"Evade him!" Worf shouted. The Terran ship fired a wide spread of phaser and torpedo fire, and Worf could see there was nowhere to escape to quickly enough. The ship was barraged again, and Worf nearly fell out of his seat. The lights on the bridge suddenly went out, and Worf could smell smoke.

"Switching to auxiliary power," said tactical, as red light bathed the interior of the bridge. "Shields are at 15 percent, and dropping. The shield generators have been significantly damaged."

"Get us out of here," Worf ordered. He wasn't planning on staying to risk destruction. If the To'ral sat there much longer, that is exactly what would happen. What he needed to do was escape and notify Crusher of this heinous act committed by her military.

"Captain, they are just sitting there. They've dropped their shields." Worf stared at the view screen, which confirmed that the Terran ship floated almost serenely now in front of them with not so much as a scratch. His ship on the other hand was crippled.

"Keep our shields up and work on getting those generators back online." _Why has he dropped his shields? Is he daring me to fire?_

* * *

When Picard gave the order to drop the _Enterprise_ shields, Yar may have been the only officer on the bridge who was not surprised, and she obeyed immediately. "Shields down, Captain."

Picard leaned forward, grinning at the crippled bird of prey in front of them in space. They were finished. All it would take was a final shot, and that was why it was so important to have the proper aim. "Target the bridge of the bird of prey and fire phasers-just enough to make a distraction."

Yar adjusted the frequency and fired once. Outwardly there was very little damage, but she knew from experience that the Klingon ship's bridge was now on fire.

Picard stood up casually, and pulled his sidearm disruptor, checking it carefully before putting it back in its holster. He checked that his knife was still attached to the outside of his boot. "Prepare one of the detention cells," he ordered quietly.

"Aye sir," said Yar. Of course, she had already done so, as she and the Captain had discussed this even before entering Klingon space. But Riker and Troi didn't know, and why should they be told? Traitors...

Picard attached an agonizer weapon to his belt, just in case things got difficult where he was going. He smiled to himself. If Beverly was going to take him out, he was going to control his downfall as much as he could. And that meant surprising her. The Klingons would know she gave the order halting all incursions, and now that he had violated her order, she would have her hands full with a political quagmire. He also had decided that capturing a Klingon hostage; say a captain of a battle cruiser, might gain him a brief reprieve from her viral assassination plan. She was working very hard not to piss off the Klingons, and he was beginning to suspect the reason why. If he was correct, as long as he had a Klingon officer captive on his ship, Beverly was likely to continue to hold off on her plan to assassinate the entire _Enterprise_ crew.

Riker got to his feet, beginning to get annoyed. "Captain?" he questioned.

Picard looked up at Riker with a sly smile. "Yar is going to beam me onto the bridge of that ship. And when I signal her, she will beam me back aboard into the detention cell I just mentioned."

He turned his attention to Yar. "Prepare to energize...oh, and Yar?"

"Yes, Captain?"

"You have the bridge."

* * *

 _ **To'ral**_

The bridge was on fire. "Tactical!" Worf shouted, and scrambled over the body of the helmsman who had been thrown backwards from the recent explosion at the front of the bridge. He moved to his right where the tactical officer should have been, but there was merely a charred unrecognizable heap. He didn't expect to hear a transporter beam shimmer nearby, dampened by another explosion. He spun with a disruptor in his hand, but was too slow, as some kind of stun beam lanced out from the invader whose body was sill re-constituting in the middle of his bridge. Firing a weapon while transporting was never recommended, and although the human had not been injured by his own foolhardiness, the transport had the effect of deconstructing the weapon's beam, weakening it. Worf tumbled backwards, as the human ran toward him.

As the man continued charging toward him, yelling something in Klingon that vaguely sounded like an insult about Worf's mother, Worf thrust his arms upward, sending the man sailing over his head. There was a solid thud, and he heard the man stagger to his feet, weapon-less. Worf turned and jumped from his crouching position, slamming the man back onto the deck. He raised his formidable boot and brought it back down, but the man rolled out of the way. Jumping up, the man slashed a blade toward him. Worf blocked it, and slammed his disruptor into the man's solar plexus. The man's face contorted in agony and surprise, and a splash of red blood dribbled down his chin.

The human went down on one knee, as Worf aimed the disruptor inches from the man's head. "You have committed an act of war by entering my territory and attacking my ship without provocation. Who are you?" Worf demanded.

The man glared up at him, bloody, defiant and seemingly unhinged. "I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard, of the Terran Empire." He got slowly to his feet and pushed the barrel of Worf's disruptor out of the way. "And you will surrender your vessel to me."

"I will not do as you say!"

Picard grinned at him. "That's what I thought you would say." He swiftly pulled out a small hexagonal object and placed it lightly against Worf's chest. Worf tried to grab for the human's wrist, but his pain was so great that he knew he was screaming, but could not hear himself. The human was speaking into his communicator, and then dimly, Worf felt the transporter beam.

* * *

Geordi stood outside the imperial chamber. He heard the servo motors in the side of the guard's neck whirring. Flicking his fingertips behind his back he got a better view of the guard. Its facial features were identical to Data's, but in most other respects it appeared to be a Borg, complete with clunky black armor and metallic appendages. Its right hand was equipped with phase weaponry.

"The Emperor will see you now," many voices said at once.

There was a clicking sound, and the heavy doors in front of him slid open slowly. He took a step inside, noting that the guard was still with him, but then Geordi froze. Data was at the center of an immense room, full of the kind of black organic and metallic tubing he had seen in other Borg constructs. Data sat on the traditional Emperor's throne, but underneath it lay a large green triangular structure. Hundreds of thin black tubes attached to his body from the larger tubes that spun like a web throughout the chamber. The android's facial features twitched as though he was caught in an unending loop.

Geordi shook his head in confusion and turned to the guard, who he knew would speak for the Borg. "What are you doing to him?"

"The Emperor is unwell," said the voices. "You will repair him so that we may complete our integration into your primitive society."

* * *

 **Hi everyone, thanks for following along with this story. I'll try and update soon. Best -PP**


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 33**

* * *

 _ **MIRROR**_

 **Terran Headquarters-The Emperor's Chamber**

"Repair the Emperor," the voices commanded again. "Or he will be discarded."

"Discarded?"

"The Emperor is unwell, you must repair him," the Borg repeated.

"Why can't you fix him?" Geordi questioned. He directed his question to the single Borg guard who stood behind him in the room, but the guard simply turned and marched out of the room without another word. The door shut more quickly this time.

LaForge experienced a very real stab of fear, and his hand moved to his communicator. His first instinct was to call the Admiral. But he doubted she would be impressed by his cry for help, and so he reconsidered and walked closer to Data. Data continued to twitch oddly. Something was wrong with his neural net, that was clear. He waved his hand, instantly gathering the information Wesley had demanded. He would analyze it later, before deciding whether to provide the kid with anything.

"And if I don't? Maybe I don't want to help you...maybe I don't like what you're doing to him..."

"The LaForge is the Emperor's friend. The Emperor is unwell-"

"And needs to be repaired? You've mentioned." He gathered his courage. "Look...I don't know what's going on here, but whatever you are doing to him is overloading his synaptic pathways. _You_ are the ones making him unwell."

"If the Emperor cannot be repaired, his compatibility with Borg technology must be improved. If his sytems cannot be improved he will be discarded and replaced by another Emperor."

"Discarded? And then what?" Geordi glanced toward the exit again, which he could tell was surrounded by a decent force field. He was unarmed and trapped inside the Emperor's chamber.

He held up a finger and focused his vision on Data's positronic brain. If he was given the proper support Data might continue to carry out whatever the Borg had in store for him. But to what end? He flashed back to his last conversation with the android, just months ago. Data was coherent, and in command of his mind. Certainly he was not the mess of wires that sat in front of Geordi now. Just as arrogant as the Terrans he had always sought to emulate. But even then, something had changed.

 _"I recognize now what my greatest error has been, Geordi. I have copied Terrans for as long as I can remember. I have aspired to be like them in every way...especially you, Geordi. But now I see, now I understand. All of that searching was in vain, and at the expense of discovering my true authentic self. And soon the Terrans will see this and recognize my innate superiority."_

Geordi had not dared to laugh. Of course Data was now Emperor, and to challenge him could mean death, or worse-torture. Yet still he and Data had always had an understanding. "But Data, you are ruling the Terran Empire Isn't that enough? After all...we Terrans are stubborn. You can't make us what we aren't."

 _"I disagree. Geordi... you suffer from the misconception that your Visor and visual implants make you unique yet flawed. Perhaps there was a time when I would have agreed. But now it is clear that you and I are simply better... we are vast improvements on the Terran condition...of course I myself am superior to you in that regard. But nevertheless your cybernetic enhancements make you better than the average Terran. You are simply too weak-minded to see it. My hope is that in time, through my alliance with the Borg, you will see the truth."_

Geordi's lip curled slightly, remembering this insulting encounter. He felt conflicted. Data had fought for years to prove his sentience and had formed himself into a powerful political figure, a symbol of the "new" Terran Empire. And now he was an automaton, controlled by the Borg. Keeping Data functional could help Data survive, but would it mean the end of the Terrans? Data had believed he was superior, but the Borg had co-opted and used this belief for their own purposes. He observed Data again. The hundreds of cybernetic connections attached to his body were beginning to overwhelm his systems. If Geordi could bolster the android's defenses he would survive whatever the Borg were doing to him. But if Data died, the Borg would lose their new nerve center. They would be vulnerable to attack, if momentarily. He knew he must make a choice.

Suddenly, the Borg voices made a disturbing declaration, bringing him back to the present.

"The LaForge has cybernetic implants. These can be improved and integrated into our own."

"No!"

"Soon all Terrans will be assimilated."

That feeling of dread now refused to exit his brain. "Soon?"

"The operations are underway. The Picard implants are operating within acceptable parameters."

Geordi remembered seeing the tactical port on the back of Picard's neck. The one he had so casually volunteered to have implanted. _Picard is a damn fool._ "What are you talking about?"

"The Emperor's plans are underway to integrate the Terran Starships into the Borg Collective. The Picard and crew will be the first to join with the Enterprise ship. The Enterprise ship has received its transmitted instructions, and will obey."

 _Those don't sound like the Emperor's plans._ _He's not in control anymore._ Geordi was sweating now.

"The Picard will be the first to be assimilated. His aggressive personality will be suitably integrated into the ship's operating systems. A true alliance of Borg and Terran cultures. Eventually all Terrans will be assimilated. The Picard will be the first, once his erratic personality has been corrected."

As much as LaForge wouldn't have minded Picard out of the way, he knew that Picard, although he was completely unaware, was the prototype for a Borg dominated future. Only the beginning of the end.

"The Emperor requires regular maintenance," said the Borg. "A doctor."

 _Wait a minute. Beverly never signaled that she was returning to the Contagion. Where is she?_

"Where is the Admiral?" he demanded.

"Admiral Crusher has been detained for probable assimilation and direct connection into the Emperor's neural network. She will provide regular maintenance. Once she has been integrated into the Collective, the ship she commands and its crew will also be suitable for assimilation."

"No, that's not right. You can't do that to her...to any of us."

"The Emperor must be repaired."

"Okay...I'll do it, on one condition."

There was a long pause. "The LaForge will state his condition."

"That you let the Admiral, me and the Contagion leave immediately after I repair Data. Just let us go."

"A delay of the inevitable. You will be assimilated along with all Terrans."

LaForge moved toward Data hurriedly. "Fine. Just let us go now."

There was another pause. "We will impose an additional condition."

 _If I boost the shielding around his brain, his neural net won't be as susceptible to the incredible amounts of energy he's being subjected to._ LaForge was already working on Data's cranial unit, so he didn't pause in his task, when he asked for clarification. "What condition?"

"You must bring The Picard and Enterprise back to Terra for final assimilation."

* * *

 **A few hours later...**

The door to the locked room opened, and on the other side stood Geordi LaForge looking tired and disheveled. Beverly stood up and walked toward him quickly. "Finally..." She glanced behind him. No Borg. She looked directly at his face, which despite the Visor always displayed emotion clearly. What exactly he was thinking at the moment, she couldn't tell.

"Admiral, you're free to go," he said in a quiet voice. "We all are."

She blinked. "What do you mean? Of course we're-"

He shook his head before explaining what had happened, and that the Borg had intended on keeping her on Terra for disturbing reasons. He didn't mention a word about Picard. Not yet.

"So...you traded your services for my release."

He smiled slightly, and took her hand. It was something he would never have been brave enough to do before. She looked down at their joined hands, before pulling hers away with a strange smile. She moved closer to him, so that their faces nearly touched. "Is there anything else you would like to tell me about what happened in the Emperor's chamber, Geordi?"

Geordi swallowed. He couldn't bring up the condition about Picard. Not yet, not knowing how she might react. He shook his head. "No."

"Hmm...well," she said evenly and walked out the door past him.

Geordi wiped at the dried sweat on his face. " _Well?_ Is that it?"

She turned back to look at him. " _Well_...you've increased your value significantly, Mr. LaForge. Now isn't that what you wanted?"

* * *

Beverly strode on to the bridge of the Contagion, the discussion with LaForge still fresh in her mind. LaForge had leverage now. He had gotten her out of the clutches of the Borg at least for now. He was clever, and had proven he was worth keeping around. She was even honest enough to admit to herself that she liked him. And yet, she remained suspicious. She knew he was still hiding something from her. She practically fell into her command chair, finally realizing how mentally fatigued she was.

"Helm, I want _out_ of here, let's put some distance between us and this god forsaken planet."

Lieutenant Barclay turned from his communications station. "Ad-Admiral, there's a subspace message coming from Klingon space. B-but I don't think...I don't think you're g-going to like it."

Beverly settled into the command chair. "Then it will be your head, Broccoli. On screen."

From the forward view screen, a bloodied but pleased Picard stood in what appeared to be a detention cell. Next to him, suspended in the agony booth was a large and apparently unconscious Klingon. Worf!

She jumped to her feet. "You insubordinate moron!"

He tugged at his uniform tunic. "Struck a nerve have I?" He gestured at Worf. "See someone you know, do you?"

She slammed her fist on the back of the chair. "I told you to stay out of Klingon territory, Captain. What you have done is punishable by death!"

He smiled. "And so then what do I really have to lose? You were already going to kill me."

"You son of a bitch, you are to let that Klingon go immediately, do you understand me?"

"I _understand_ Admiral, that I now have something you want...desperately. How far will you go, and to what depths will you sink in order to carry out your plans? I can only speculate, but I'll admit I am eager to know the answer to those questions."

She gripped the back of the chair tightly, determined to regain her composure. "We are enemies now, is that really what you want, Captain? Do you think I won't track you down?"

"I am hoping that you will," he said before blowing her a kiss. The screen went black.

"Trans-trans-transmission ended, Admiral."

* * *

 **Hi everyone, how's it going? Thanks for reading. I have had a lot going on, but hope to update again soon. Peace -PP**


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 34**

 **PRIME**

 _We'll reach the coordinates of the ion station and our missing ships within three hours. I should be on the bridge._

He stopped his pacing for a moment as a crew member passed by, giving the man a brisk nod. He was too tired to be self-conscious. Once alone again he resumed staring at her door, contemplating whether it was worth it to press the button again. _She's not answering, why am I still here?_ He had resolved to walk away, when the door shot open, revealing an empty doorway.

He hesitated before stepping through. Beverly was standing over her desk, writing something with a stylus on a large data pad. She continued to write, not looking up at him. "I thought you might go away after a few minutes," she said, dropping the stylus and walking away from him.

"I had no real intention of leaving," he admitted quietly.

She stopped, still facing away from him. "Of all people you should have better sense than to want to be around me right now," she said coldly. He didn't know how to respond to that safely, so he said nothing. Momentarily, she crossed her arms, and turned around to face him. "What do you want, Jean-Luc?"

He took a step forward. "I want to see Jeanette."

"Well, she's sleeping. You're free to go and see your daughter anytime of course."

"And I want to make sure that you are alright."

"I'm not. Now, will you please leave?"

He took a shaky breath in. "No."

"No?" There was a challenge in her voice, but her eyes expressed fear, more than anything else.

"No," he said with quiet determination. "You don't have to speak to me, or even look at me...but I want to stay here. With you."

"Why?"

He looked down for a moment, before raising his eyes again. "Because I love you, Beverly."

She laughed as if shocked, then wiped tears from her cheeks. "I...it's not good for you to be here right now. I'm so confused," she whispered.

"I know."

"Wesley hates me," she said distantly.

He walked forward, taking her hands in his. "What? No, that's not true. He's confused as well. He thought his father-"

Beverly squeezed his hands tightly then. "Don't even mention that... person and what he did to Wesley and to me, and to _you_. I don't want to think about him, and what he's done. The sooner he is off this ship, the sooner I will be able to sleep again."

"I know what you mean." He reached up to touch her cheek, and she stepped in closer, surprising him by placing her hand on his waist. He leaned in to kiss her firmly, and she moved her hand to the nape of his neck, pulling him in closer as she parted her lips. He wasn't prepared for the warmth of her mouth, and the eagerness of her kiss, and he felt as though his legs had been gently kicked out from under him. He wrapped his arms around her and closed his eyes. She pulled away slightly and touched his face, causing him to open his eyes. Her look was searching. "Is this really what you want?" she asked. He nodded wordlessly and brought his lips to her neck. He heard her suck in her breath, and felt her skin flush warmer. She unwrapped his arms from around her and held fast to his hands. She nodded over her shoulder at her bedroom, and this time his legs felt as though they were floating.

* * *

Wesley entered his quarters with quick steps. He needed to clear the air with his mother. Talking to his father who was still locked up in a detention cell, had made it impossible for him to continue as he had been. Leaving it all bottled up wasn't doing him any good and he needed to know the truth.

He halted in the middle of the living room. He heard them then...the sighs, and quiet laughter. He covered his ears and backpedaled through the room. His father had been right. The captain had betrayed his oldest friend in order to be with this mother. And his mother, knowing how it would affect Wesley still hadn't cared about anyone but herself. She'd obviously been lying to him all this time. Disgusted, he turned to leave, when he heard footsteps behind him.

"Wesley?" He heard the shock and embarrassment in his mother's voice, and didn't want to turn to face her, but he still did, driven by his anger.

She and Captain Picard stood close together, side by side, looking at him with almost identically guilty expressions. Captain Picard took a step sideways and was trying to subtly place his communicator back on his uniform, but did he think Wesley was stupid? It was obvious what they had just been doing.

Beverly swept the hair out of her face, glancing at Picard. "Wesley, I didn't know-"

"Didn't know what? That I was on to you? That you were fooling around with _him_ , while my dad is sitting in jail?"

Picard stepped forward, reaching out to the teen. "Wes, the man in that cell is not your father."

"I _don't_ believe you!" the boy suddenly shouted.

Picard glanced at Beverly with quiet alarm. "Perhaps I should leave." He began to walk quickly past Wesley.

"You're not my father either," Wesley snapped. "And you never will be."

Picard turned back to look at Wesley. "I didn't intend to hurt you, Wesley."

"Oh, so now it's Wesley, and not Mr. Crusher? All of a sudden you want to talk to me like I'm an actual person? I mean nothing to you!"

"Wes!" his mother interjected. "He's still your commanding officer, and he _does_ care about you...please don't talk to him that way."

"It's alright," Picard said, backing away. "It's fine. Wesley...I think you should take some time for yourself. I'm not going to require you to report for duty for the foreseeable future."

Wesley shook his head and grabbed his communicator, pulling it from his uniform. "It doesn't matter anymore...because I resign," he said flatly, tossing the combadge on a nearby table. He stepped around the Captain and nearly ran from their quarters.

* * *

 ** _MIRROR_**

 ** _ISS Enterprise_**

"We need to find out what's going on, Picard's got a new plan and his favorite pet is in the know for once," Riker glared at Tasha Yar, while speaking softly to Troi who sat next to him at her post at communications. "He was a little too willing to agree to travel to the coordinates we suggested."

"Yes," Troi murmured. "He's beamed a Klingon back from that cruiser, and is interrogating him below decks. Between that duranium plate in Picard's head, and that thick Klingon's skull, I can't sense a thing-at least not from up here." She smile up at him. "But Yar's another story." Deanna got up from her seat and sauntered down into the command center.

Yar sat in the captain's chair, and kept her eyes forward on the view screen as the stars streaked by. The Captain had ordered her to intercept the stolen ships from the Lesser Universe, and in less than five hours they would be there. She felt somewhat drowsy. After their conversation in his quarters, Captain Picard had injected her with a drug which made her memories of the last twenty four hours very spotty. Now as the drug began to kick in, she had trouble remembering why they were headed to the coordinates the captain had designated, which of course is what he had wanted. He had guessed that Troi might try and pry into her mind. And he was right.

Yar felt the soft hand on her shoulder before she heard the silky tones of Troi's voice in her head.

 _What do you know?_

Vaguely out of the corner of her eye she saw Troi's shadow walk by her on the right, seemingly in slow motion.

Anticipating what would come next, Yar focused on the breakfast she'd had that morning. As always, it had been a large bowl of oatmeal with fruit and milk. Suddenly a knife-like sensation pierced her forehead. She realized that her eyes had been closed, and she opened them to find Troi staring at her from just a few feet away.

 _Tell me what you know!_

The knife, turned into a ball of fire expanding within her mind, until it had spread throughout. Yar felt her eyes watering profusely, but was unable to move.

 _You are useless!_

Suddenly she felt her mind released, and she slumped forward in the captain's chair. She heard Troi swear, and step away, and suddenly all the brightness of the bridge returned and her thoughts were clear. She smiled, happy to have survived, and even more so to have denied her enemy the information she was seeking.

Troi pushed past Riker furiously and sat back down at her station, punching in a transmission code. Her people keeping watch on board those stolen Starfleet ships hadn't reported in for some time now. She'd ordered the Starfleet captives to be kept alive. Torture was fine where appropriate, but for now those frightened crew members were worth more alive to her than dead. Some of them might still be of use to her when she and Riker made their jump into the Lesser Universe. She typed in the code again and waited.

A few more moments went by, and then she tried another code. Her skin began to crawl inexplicably. No answer. In fact, the transmission was dead. Had one of her officers gotten greedy and taken off with her goods? She looked at the readouts again. No...the ships were still there. All five of them. So, why no answer? _Damn._ She clenched her fists, concentrating on keeping her temper in check. She needed to conserve her energy.

 _"Picard to Troi"_ , the voice she had come to detest as well as respect resonated through the com.

"Troi here," she said through gritted teeth.

 _"I need your...talents down in the detention area. The Klingon needs coaxing."_


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter 35**

 **PRIME**

* * *

"Don't worry, it's going to be alright, I know it is," Jean-Luc whispered, kissing Jeanette on the top of her forehead. The baby, who Beverly had told him now was now somehow about four months older than when she had appeared just weeks ago as a newborn, sat calmly, balanced on his thigh. He kept his hands lightly on her back and front, as she stretched her head back to look up at him with arched soft orange eyebrows. He smoothed the wispy curl of red hair that stood out on top of her head.

Her mouth suddenly opened wide in a smile, which made him laugh, which caused her to laugh too. "What is so funny?" he asked, tickling her belly. She gurgled up at him. " _My goodness_ , you are getting big," he said, bouncing her on his knee, which made her laugh again.

 _"Her physical and intellectual growth is accelerated,"_ Beverly had said recently. _"And I don't know why, or what it means."_

 _"Perhaps the Traveler knows,"_ he had responded.

 _"Well until he reappears in my living room, we're on our own, Jean-Luc."_

He was hugging her to him again, just as the door opened and Beverly walked back in. Standing up, with the baby in one arm, he walked toward her with concern. "Did you find him?" he looked up with concern.

Beverly walked to a replicator in a highly agitated state. "I need something- something to calm my nerves."

"Might I suggest-"

"Earl Grey, hot," she declared.

This made him smile, but he stopped in his tracks and waited for her to turn around.

When she did, she exhaled loudly and took a shaky sip from her cup. She made a face, and put the cup down. "Right now I need something a lot stronger than tea...Yes," she shrugged, finally answering his question. "I found Wesley, but he wasn't the least bit interested in talking with me, or coming home."

"He'll come around."

"Will he? That bastard may be locked up in detention, but he has gotten into my son's head, Jean-Luc, and I just don't know how to compete with that right now."

Jean-Luc could think of no response, so instead he shifted slowly from foot to foot in a swaying motion, unsure at the moment if he was trying to soothe himself or the baby.

He watched as Beverly's expression softened to a degree.

She walked over to him, and put her palm on his back, leaning in to kiss Jeanette. "How is my big girl?" she asked lovingly as she nuzzled the baby's face. Jeanette again erupted into bubbly laughter. Beverly smiled. "She's so happy..."

"Someone has to be happy on this ship," she added, picking up her tea again and moving away from him again.

For some reason, this statement gave him an uncomfortable twinge, particularly since less than an hour before he had been doing everything within his power to make her happy. But now those wonderful moments of intimacy seemed so far away. "I'd like to make you happy," he blurted out awkwardly, as she walked away from him.

Beverly turned back to him, and gave him a sympathetic smile. "Oh...I didn't mean...believe me Jean-Luc, I _know_. And you _did_ -it's just that everything is so uncertain right now."

He winced, shifting Jeanette to his other arm. Although his daughter was not heavy, she wiggled around just enough to remind him that his body was still recovering from the explosion on the bridge. "Do you regret that we..." he trailed off, as she smiled again and shook her head no. But he still noticed a hesitancy in her eyes, that made him think that as long as Jack's replica was on board, they would all be unsettled, and unable to move forward. He began again. "Because Beverly, if you're having second thoughts, we can slow things down-"

"A bit late for that, don't you think?" she asked with a soft smile.

He felt his face grow warm. "Perhaps..."

She continued to look at him with that smile, which had the effect of being highly distracting, and brought certain images to mind. "Ah...I will do whatever I can to regain Wesley's trust, Beverly. It's not his fault that he's been taken in by that man."

She clenched her jaw and nodded, growing serious once more. She looked down at her feet. "You never were, though, were you, Jean-Luc? You never truly believed that Jack had returned." She looked up at him again. "How could I have been such a fool?"

* * *

A short time later, Picard walked into Ten Forward, surprised momentarily that it was so bustling with people. As usual he kept to himself, and walked slowly up to the bar. He didn't sit down, but merely waited for his friend to turn around.

Guinan smiled. "What can I get you?"

He traced his hand along the bar absently. "I'm not going to be subtle about it this time...I need advice."

She watched him closely. "I've seen that look before, Captain. It's the one you always have when you are thinking about the Borg."

He took a breath, nodding. "Yes. And I don't know why I am thinking about the Borg at this very moment. Perhaps it is just the feeling that once again we are heading toward an unknown danger. As an explorer, the unknown used to excite me, Guinan. Until the Borg." He looked away. "I've changed, and not for the better."

She gestured for him to sit down. "A lot has happened recently Captain. To you...to this ship and it's crew."

Reluctantly he sat down, staring at his hands. "I don't know if I ever believed that man was really my friend. And yet poor Wesley..." he looked up at her. "Wesley still believes him to be his father. How do I-how do I help him?"

"Just be you. In time, he'll come around."

Picard looked skeptical. "Really?"

"I'm sure of it." Guinan leaned forward over the bar. "So... let's talk about the Borg, Captain."

* * *

 ** _MIRROR_**

Captain Picard walked back in to the detention block. Considering the circumstances, he was in a good mood. In his hand he held a bottle filled with something bright blue.

"We took the Klingon out of the Booth like you ordered, Captain. He's in there now," the guard pointed toward the interrogation room.

"Where is she?" he demanded of the guard.

"Commander Troi? I dunno, sir, she hasn't stopped by yet."

" _Hasn't stopped by_? You talk as though she wasn't just ordered to be here!"

"I dunno, sir..."

"Well, you idiot, you don't know much, do you?" Picard grumbled, shoving his way past the guard. "When she gets here, make her wait until I give you the go-ahead."

"Aye sir, but what if she-"

Uninterested in the plight of this idiotic guard, Picard walked into the interrogation room, and reached back and shut the door on the man's protestations. Once inside the room, he smiled in triumph at his prisoner, but his gloating was wasted on the hunched over Klingon, who sat slumped over a table, half asleep perhaps, from his ordeal in the Agony Booth.

Picard sat down on the other side, and put his boots noisily up on the table, stretching out his legs. He casually slid the bottle of blue liquid across the table towards his prisoner. "I'm sure you'll be wanting a drink after what you've been through."

No answer.

"You'll find I can be a very agreeable man," said Picard. "Generous even...for those willing to comply."

The prisoner remained silent.

"Go ahead," Picard prompted in a jovial tone. "Have a drink. One of the last authentic bottles of Romulan ale..."

"Perhaps I will _break_ that bottle across your weak Terran skull."

"Ha, that's the spirit!" Picard pounded the table with his fist, then leaned on one elbow, tapping his forehead with his fingertip. "Although, I think you'll find appearances can be deceiving. My skull is quite fortified...not unlike your own."

Worf finally looked up at his captor slowly. A dark bruise extended from the Terran's throat and disappeared beneath his uniform shirt. He had been wounded during his surprise transport to the bridge of Worf's doomed bird of prey, but like Worf these concerns were secondary. Physical pain was but a reminder of living in moments like these. "I know who you are...you are responsible for the deaths of hundreds of my Klingon brothers and sisters."

Picard watched him with curious amusement. "Large family?"

Word growled and grabbed the bottle of ale, looking at it closely. "You have no honor, Picard. And one day you will meet a fitting death."

Picard laughed. "That may be...but not at your hands, Worf. You see, I know you too. And if you want to stay alive, you'll make a deal with me."

"I will tell you nothing!"

Picard shrugged. "Have it your way. On this ship there are other methods of gathering information, much more thorough than listening and talking...both of which are highly overrated activities, if you ask me."

Word made a face, and reached for the bottle again, unscrewing the cap. He took a big drink from it, before sliding it back across the table to Picard.

Picard smiled and took a swig from the bottle. "This is as close as either of us will ever get to meeting a real Romulan," he mentioned, studying the bottle carefully. "It's only a matter of time you know, before your people meet the same fate as the Romulans." Picard's eye caught on a blinking light on the far side of the table. Troi had arrived in the detention area. He smiled, just thinking of her tapping her elegant boot impatiently. No need to rush.

"The Terrans wiped out the Romulans years before either of us were born," said Worf.

Picard sighed. "Yes...but no reason why I can't take credit. It's my birthright after all."

"Just as it was your birthright to steal cloaking technology from the Romulans and Klingons."

"Nonsense, Worf. Terrans invented the cloaking device in 2170. Every Terran child is raised to learn this."

"Then every Terran child has been lied to."

Picard broke into a slow smile. "I like you, Worf. You and I are not so different."

Worf regarded Picard suspiciously. "How can this be so?"

"Well for one thing, we both believed the lies of the same powerful woman. Don't be ashamed, she's highly skilled, and therefore deserves our respect. But if you think Crusher has your interests, or the interests of the suffering Klingon people in mind, you are sadly mistaken. As such, you are a fool to consider an alliance with her. To what ends, do you allow yourself to trust such a deceitful person?"

"Who is this _Crusher_ you speak of?" Worf asked in a convincingly innocent voice.

Picard's expression grew steely, and he clenched his jaw. "Going to play hard to get, are we?" He reached over and put his palm on the blinking light, signaling the guard. A moment later, the door opened and Deanna Troi sauntered into the room confidently.

Picard didn't turn around, still glaring at his prisoner. "Nice of you to join us, Commander."

"As usual, Captain, you needed my abilities. Since I enjoy torturing prisoners, it was really no trouble at all." She walked over to stand arms crossed, looking down at Worf. "It's been a while since I've had the pleasure of breaking a Klingon mind." She leaned down close to Worf's face, and he jerked his face away. "I couldn't quite crack that thick skull from the bridge, but now that we're here in the same room, it shouldn't be so difficult."

Picard rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I don't want him to be bludgeoned into a blubbering mess on the floor, Troi...I want to know what he knows."

Troi ignored him, and circled Worf. The Klingon jerked forward again, and tried to brace himself against the table. His eyes searched the room wildly, before rolling up toward the ceiling. Troi shrugged and walked away from Worf as the Klingon's large frame flopped forward unconsciously onto the table.

She stopped, and touched Picard's cheek lightly. "He's in an alliance with your ex-wife. She intends to overthrow the Emperor by aligning herself with the dregs of the Klingon colonies. Doesn't seem the brightest of plans...and he doesn't trust her. Perhaps he's not so stupid after all."

"That's it?"

"Yes, that's it! What did you expect? There is no possible way she would have told a Klingon even half of her actual plans."

Picard got up and stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Perhaps you're right."

"Of course, I am, Captain," Troi said sweetly.

* * *

 **For the moment, this story is still somehow escapist for me, and hopefully you, (but for how long?), despite its themes of a future parallel universe run by fascist xenophobes. After last week's election in the U.S., fascist, racist xenophobia is now apparently our daily reality.** **Best wishes, and stay safe. -PP**


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 36**

* * *

 _ **MIRROR**_

LaForge slid his hands over her shoulders and down over her back. He'd been summoned to her quarters, but even with his new confidence following his enlightening adventure at Headquarters, he hadn't expected her to be standing in the center of her bedroom naked. But as his hands slid downward toward her belly button, she caught them. "Not so fast...there's something you're not telling me, Geordi."

"Um..."

"You repaired Data, and because of that, we can expect the Borg will only tighten their grip...so _why_ did they let us go?"

"You're right," he said breathing in deeply to calm his nerves. Despite the darkness, the shadow of mistrust that played over her features, was evident through his Visor. But her colors were still beautiful.

"I usually am," she replied.

"You're right about what happened down on Terra. There's something else...or maybe I should say, _someone_."

She tightened her grip on his hands, waiting for his answer. Finally, she let go of his hands. "The more you hesitate, the less I trust you, Geordi. And to think, I was considering letting you know the full extent of my plans. Not to mention, you just lost out on a chance to enjoy my company tonight-"

"They want Picard," he blurted out. "The Borg. I agreed I would bring him back to Terra for "final assimilation"... whatever the hell that means."

To his surprise, she laughed deeply. " _You_ said you'd bring him back to Terra...oh I'd _love_ to see that Geordi, although I'm not sure you would live through your attempts to do so. You have many talents, but bounty hunting is not one of them."

He put his hands on top of his head, as this reality finally began to sink in. _Oh no._

If Beverly was concerned about his welfare, she didn't let on. Instead, she reached to her side and pulled on a silken robe, moving away from him. Her tone was now serious. "Well we can all guess what 'final assimilation means', now can't we? But why do they want _him_?" She turned back to face him, as it quickly dawned on her. "That arrogant _idiot_!" LaForge watched her temperature coloring turn from purple to deep red. "It's that implant he was so proud to have drilled into the back of his neck. His insistence on being the first to have such a thing has made him no more than an experiment... no more than a tool for the Borg to assimilate us all. Once they have Picard, we're all done for."

"Its not so simple. They will come after all of us, _this ship_ , if he's not returned."

"It doesn't matter. He can't be sent back, because his assimilation will be the catalyst to end the rest of us." She pointed at him and he knew it was a warning. "And don't even begin to think I'm doing this for him! If anything, I am saving my own skin."

He walked toward her slowly. "Admiral...Beverly, the Borg want a physician, specifically an expert cyberneticist to monitor and maintain Data's health indefinitely...that means _you_. I told you, they didn't want to let you go, and will come after you _personally_ if we don't bring in Picard."

"Let them try!" she shouted with furious intensity. She stalked to the other side of the room and this time he knew better than to follow. She stood facing away from him. "I'm going to find Picard and re-capture the Klingon so that I can continue my plans. Without Worf, I simply won't have the firepower I need to ascend to power. As for Picard, I will do what needs to be done."

"Even if that still means killing him?"

She turned around and walked back toward him. "Yes." She looked at him pointedly, and he knew immediately she had no intentions of talking about Picard unless she had to. "Geordi, what ever happened to your planned meeting with my son? You've been very hush on the subject. Keeping secrets?"

Geordi froze for a moment, but only a moment, because he now realized that he had to tell her everything about Wesley to keep whatever semblance of trust between them. She hadn't asked until now, and he hadn't contacted Wesley since before he'd seen Data. He now had the schematics Wesley had needed...and so he had leverage. Still he knew he had to tread carefully where her son was concerned. "Wesley said he didn't have time to meet with me."

Her eyes narrowed. "So you did talk to him."

"Yes. He's fallen in with someone who is either powerful, or has powerful allies."

Beverly walked to her bed and sat down on the edge of it. "But he wouldn't say who?"

"Nope." He told her about Wesley's scheme of be-heading Data for unknown reasons, as well as Wesley having reason to evade Troi, after his infringement on her stolen ships from the Lesser Universe.

"The Lesser Universe," she whispered, legitimately surprised. _And Picard knows about these ships._ She recalled him promising to deliver her unlimited ships. He was bluffing again...or was he? Had he and Troi been to the Lesser Universe? She blinked, as a sensation from her last physical experience with him floated in and out of her mind. Beverly looked across the room at LaForge and slowly patted the bed beside her.

When he walked over and sat down beside her, Geordi felt a tension between them return and it wasn't entirely unpleasant. He could tell that she was plotting things through, and from his perspective, the fact that she wanted to talk it through with him was a good sign. "So you have the schematics, saved in your Visor?" she asked slowly. "But my son doesn't have them yet?"

Geordi shook his head, no. "I could of course...hold onto it as long as you want me to."

She smiled slowly. "Good. If my son wants the data on Data so badly, he can come and find you...you said he is on some kind of ship? Wesley has no friends, yet it sounds as though he is protecting someone. Someone who wants Data gone."

"Whoever it is he's allied himself with, he's still afraid of Troi. As I mentioned, Wes only escaped the Enterprise with my help, Beverly. If we're headed toward Troi, he's not going to be happy about that. According to him, she wants him dead."

Surprisingly, Beverly moved closer, grabbing Geordi's hand tenderly, yet her voice was hard. "He'll come. And when he does, you'll give him the information he wants _only_ on my orders. Understood?"

"Of course," he whispered, and was surprised again when she pulled him into a kiss. After a few moments, the communications relay buzzed.

 _"Admiral this is the bridge...we have the Enterprise on our sensors, but we are still outside of their range of detection."_

Beverly kissed Geordi again, and he felt her smile. Then she leaned back, and ordered, "Go into cloak and then pursue them. Notify me when they are within attack range."

* * *

 **PRIME**

Data approached the still figure, seated on the observation deck. He was accustomed to a mostly human crew, with a minority of additional species, only a few of whom were Vulcans. Humans at times, he had noted, objected to being approached from behind, especially when they were deep in thought. He could detect very little movement in the Vulcan woman, and yet it was unlikely that she had not heard him enter. He stopped a few feet away, and attempted to clear his throat, an act he had been practicing for some months now.

T'Pel had no desire to speak to anyone. Her desires these days were so few. She had accomplished her primary goal, which was to alert Captain Picard to Jack Crusher's imposter, and to reveal the history left behind by mirror Spock. The information Captain Picard now had in his possession was leading the Enterprise to an ion station, which likely would take them to the stolen ships.

Although she was to an extent a welcome guest on board the ship, she had no particular motive to remain involved in the current mission. Her mind shifted ever so slightly, at the sound of heavy, yet measured footsteps. The android. She opened her eyes when she heard him halt behind her. She stood up when she heard a strange metallic sound emanate from behind her. Turning away from the view port she lifted an inquisitive eyebrow. "Do you wish to speak with me?"

"Yes," said Data.

"Proceed then."

"A cursory study of the archives you brought on board has fascinated me," Data said without hesitation. T'Pel tilted her head, indicating she was willing to listen, but remained silent. "In particular, the actions of Spock-"

"You are referring to Spock from the mirror universe," she clarified.

"Yes...have you not wondered at his motives for entering our universe, leaving the history of the known mirror universe in the hands of the Vulcan Archivist, and then departing?"

"What makes you believe that he ever departed this universe?"

Data frowned and sat down in a nearby chair. "You stated that the Spock who traveled from the mirror universe disappeared from this universe after multiple visits here."

T'Pel placed her hands inside her sleeves and looked at him squarely. "I said he disappeared...his whereabouts have been unknown for decades. As for his motives...I did initially ponder such questions. Eventually, I concluded that Spock's inquisitiveness and ingenuity transcended both universes, once he was able to traverse both with ease. He was not bound by the conventions of either, once freed from the ideologies he had practiced for so long."

"Intriguing. Are you suggesting that he may still be living in our universe?"

"Based on his knowledge and intellect, it is only logical that Spock from the mirror universe was capable of blending into Vulcan society as we know it... if he so chose."

* * *

 **Main Sickbay**

Beverly handed the report back to her subordinate, and turned her head at the sound of approaching footsteps. She had to force herself not to turn again and walk away, once she saw who it was. She fixed her features as best she could to not convey her irritation.

Captain Phillipa Louvois slowed to a halt, and for once the confidence in her eyes was measured by what was probably mental fatigue. "I have some bad news Doctor...I thought it best to come and deliver it in person."

"How kind of you."

"Look, I didn't come to argue-"

"Look...I've spent half of my life hearing bad news from Starfleet officers." She attempted to soften her tone. "So go ahead."

Louvois squared her shoulders. "I've done my best to have Captain Picard's assailant removed from this ship with an expedited trial...the bottom line is that it didn't work. Command believes he still may be an _asset_ to this mission once we cross back over into the parallel universe."

"Isn't that making a big assumption that he's from the mirror universe and another assumption that he would actually cooperate with us when we needed him?"

"Yes, I agree, the best case scenario is to get him off of the Enterprise as soon as we can."

"But you've come to tell me that you failed...right? That we are _stuck_ with the man who pretended to be my dead husband, the man who has bamboozled my son, and who tried to murder Jean Luc twice. Fine, I get it."

"Doctor, I realize you've never been my biggest fan-"

Beverly laughed, crossing her arms, and looking down at the floor. But when she looked up, she was serious. "I don't know what you want me to say, Captain."

"I...came to apologize."

Beverly shook her head, and dropped her hands into her coat pockets. "Why?"

"It was my job to monitor his progress. If I had realized sooner that he wasn't really Jack, I could have ended this sooner."

"You?" _The arrogance of this woman!_ "If anyone should have realized he wasn't really Jack, it should have been me-Jack was _my_ husband after all."

Philippa nodded, then hesitated before posing her next question. "How is Jean-Luc doing?"

Beverly blinked. "Why don't you ask him yourself?"

Philippa seemed slightly surprised. "I don't want to get in the way."

Beverly blushed. "I see. Well, I appreciate your graciousness in standing aside, but if you and Jean-Luc are friends, it's fine-I mean it's really not my concern. Now if you'll excuse me, I have some work to finish up before we head into uncharted territory-yet again."

Louvois nodded, the confident smile now back. "I'll leave you to it then, Doctor."

* * *

 **Detention Area-Deck 16**

Wesley hesitated before sitting down on a bench outside of the cell. Inside sat a man whom he desperately wanted to be his father. And for now, his desperation had to be enough.

M got up from his afternoon nap and walked slowly toward the boy. _Wow, two visits in one day. Just how far is this kid willing to go?_

"Hi son," M said with a friendly smile.

"Hi dad."

"It's good to see you here again. I thought you'd be too busy with your bridge post and everything."

Wesley tapped his fingers on his knee nervously. "I think I made a mistake today."

M was genuinely interested now. "How so?"

"I quit my post."

 _Damn. He's committed to sticking it to Picard for what they did to me-what they did to Jack, er-whatever._

"You did what you thought was right, son. Sometimes it takes a betrayal of trust to learn who our real supporters are. It's hard, but you'll get through this. Trust me."

Wes could feel his anxiety level growing, and he had the sudden and distinct feeling that he was the one inside the detention cell. "I don't know what to do," he said, utterly lost.

M leaned against the wall, looking down at the teenager. "Sometimes when you feel frozen, the best thing you can do is act."

"Act?"

"Yeah. You see talk only gets you so far, Wes." He paused and then decided to go for it. "Are we really headed back to the mirror universe?"

Wesley nodded. "The Captain thinks he's located the missing ships. We'll be there in less than an hour."

M closed his eyes and swallowed, doing his best imitation of a man who believes he is doomed. _There's nothing to lose now._ "Wesley if we cross over again, you know what's going to happen right? Jean-Luc's double is absolutely unhinged. He's the one who held me captive all those years. He'll kill me on sight."

"The Captain won't let that happen-"

"Wes, they're going to hand me over to him. And then I'm a dead man. Unless _you_ give me a fighting chance."

Wesley brought his palm to his forehead. "What-what are you asking me to do?"

"Once we've crossed over, you have to help me get out of here."

* * *

 ** _MIRROR_**

 ** _ISS Stargazer_**

Wesley slapped himself in the forehead again, as he had been repeatedly doing for the last few minutes. Why stop now? _Should never have trusted Geordi. Never...he's probably exposed my plans to the Borg.I am gonna be so screwed._ He heard steps behind him...for the first time in days he could tell that his father wasn't alone. Still he didn't turn around.

"Son," he heard his father say quietly. "You haven't said a thing for two days. But I know you communicated with someone off ship. So I've come to talk to you as father to son."

Something eerie in Jack's voice made Wesley turn from his hunched position at a conference table and look up. Jack was there all right, but so was a fat guy he'd never seen before. Apparently he'd been mistaken that his father had been entirely alone on the Stargazer. Wesley looked the man up and down with disdain. "Who are you?"

Jack laughed and slapped the large man on the back. "This is Pots...he's a mechanical genius. Keeps this heap up and running...helps out with odds and ends."

Wesley turned back around. "Great. He also smells. Did you want something, Dad?"

"I _want_ the information I asked you to get Wesley. I know how you think...you want me to give up the identity of my associates before you give me the info about the emperor. Did you sell it?"

"No," Wesley replied sullenly.

"Well, then I need it, son."

"It's not that easy... _Dad."_

Jack laughed, and Wesley turned around again lazily in his chair. The large man Pots was now holding something in his hand. Recognition set in, and Wesley scrambled to his feet, adrenaline rushing, and ready to escape the agonizer. "Wait a minute-"

Jack put a firm hand on Wesley's shoulder. "You must think I've gone soft, Wes. Not likely. All those years doing the dirty work for Ferengis has only steeled my resolve." He nodded toward Pots, who stepped forward clumsily with the torture device.

Wesley tried to move, but Jack's hand was like a vice. "Did I mention that Pots is from the Lesser Universe? You see, they don't have agonizers or agony booths in that dimension, which means he doesn't have a clue how to use this on you, without killing you."

Wesley's skin broke out in hives. "I don't have it!" he shouted. "LaForge-LaForge said he would gather the info on Data, but then he dropped out of communication with me."

Jack nodded at Pots and the man grumbled something before plopping down in a nearby chair.

Jack leaned down to stare into Wesley's eyes. "You had better be telling me the truth, Wes."

Wesley tried to steady his breathing, and regain at least the appearance of confidence. "I am."

"Good. Because we can't mess this up. Once we have those schematics we can finalize our plans."

"Who are you working with, Dad? I deserve to know."

Jack smiled. "Let's find LaForge first."

* * *

 _ **ISS Enterprise**_

Picard and Yar stood alone on the observation deck. The Captain had been quiet for some time. Finally he turned to her with a sly smile. "Natasha...there may come a point in the _very_ near future when you find yourself alone with Troi. When that happens, you should be wearing this." He handed her a metallic device smaller than a communicator.

She looked down at her palm in confusion. "What is it, sir?"

"Protection against telepathy. It will attach to the back of your communicator, creating an electro-magnetic field that interferes with her telepathic probes. Believe me, you're going to need it," he said, clapping her on the shoulder.

"But sir, what do you mean I'll end up alone with her?"

Picard suddenly grabbed the young officer under the chin. "Don't ever question me, Lieutenant."

"Aye sir. I never will."

He let go and his voice grew gentler. "Just know that if I have my way, you will always be protected. In this universe and in any other, Yar."

Yar tried to keep the emotion out of her voice, but it broke through anyway. "Thank you, sir."

He turned back to gaze out of the view port, and put his hands behind his back. "Now...about Troi. She'll want to get inside of your head, and you mustn't allow her to. She wants to know my plans."

"I won't ever tell her, Captain. Especially now that I have this device-"

"A device is one thing, Yar. But this is not child's play. I had a duranium plate implanted in my head just for the purpose of protecting against her telepathic weaponry, and she still gets to me...at times. And Riker, well he's a damn lost cause."

"Agreed sir."

"She will take advantage of your interest in her, believe me, she's done the same to me."

"Interest, sir?"

"Don't play, Natasha, I see how you look at her."

"With all due respect, sir, what you're seeing is fear. Commander Troi scares the shit out of me. I would never-"

"Many a Terran has been swayed by lust, Yar," he warned her. He resumed gazing out the port with a far-away expression. "Take it from me, I put everything I had into my pursuit of a woman who wanted nothing less than to break my very will with her relentless ambition...and now I am running for my damn life."

"I'm with you though, Captain."

"I know. And soon, your loyalty will be tested once more, my young friend," he said clasping her shoulder.

 _"Captain to the bridge. Captain to the bridge. We are under attack."_

Picard winked sideways at Yar. "Showtime."

* * *

 **Hi everyone, I want to thank you for reading and reviewing. The pace will be picking up a bit in this story over the next few chapters, and another installment should follow in a few days. Best! -PP**


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter 37**

* * *

 **PRIME**

"Are we prepared to get underway, commander?" Picard leaned over the railing, to shout down at his Chief Engineer. "ETA is 30 minutes."

"Yes, Captain," LaForge said, moving away from the warp core, as the captain stepped into the lift.

Within moments they were face to face, and LaForge was eagerly explaining the upgrades he'd put in. "Essentially, Captain, if we are trapped in the mirror universe, I've got a way to bring us back to our own universe. With Data and Wesley's help I was able to route a generator through the warp engines that will create a power surge that we can control."

"Isn't creating a power surge risky?"

Geordi stared at him for a moment. "Uh...unfortunately yes. But a controlled surge _will_ work."

"How? The short version, please," he added.

"Well, we need enough ionic activity, which we'll have as long as we're near an ion station. But if for some reason we find ourselves farther away from our entry point into the mirror universe, I can adjust the modulation of our warp trail so that the ionic activity is amplified around the ship. Combined with a power surge, it creates a pocket of-"

"Excuse me, Geordi, but that just sounds like badly written fiction."

LaForge looked slightly hurt. "Maybe so sir, but you asked for the short version."

"Fair enough. And...can a similar method be used during transport?"

"Definitely, although it's a somewhat riskier concept. But once T'Pel provided us with the ion station schematics, it all made sense. Mirror Spock used the incident with Captain Kirk's Enterprise crew as the original basis for designing the ion station. When _Enterprise_ 1701 traveled through an ion storm 100 years ago, the transporter malfunctioned causing a power surge, resulting in the transfer to the mirror universe. The crew returned to our universe by using a power surge from the warp engines, to create a warp bubble of sorts between the two universes. I'm confident that we can do the same here."

"Good...I'm counting on you."

LaForge patted the railing and looked down into the blue and white energy of the warp core. "You know what would be great, is if I could have Wesley to run the modulation on this thing...I tried calling his communicator but he didn't reply."

Picard sighed inwardly. "Mr. Crusher is currently off duty," was all he was willing to say.

Geordi looked mildly surprised. "Hmm...I thought he would want to get back to work after a short break. I know how he is. Work can really take your mind off of trouble sometimes."

"Perhaps some trouble is just too overwhelming," Picard said uncomfortably. "In any case, perhaps you could talk with him when we're out of the thick of it. He listens to you...and he looks up to you, Commander."

LaForge was confused. "Sir, he listens to you more than anyone, I'm sure-"

"Not anymore," Picard said shortly.

 _Oh._

Picard turned to leave, when LaForge held up his hand, as if remembering something. "Sir, wait!" LaForge paused awkwardly before reaching into his pocket to pull out a tiny object, which he held delicately between his thumb and forefinger. "Here, Captain. It's the implant Doctor Crusher removed from...uh, after the explosion on the bridge, sir. Turns out it's a mind control device."

The persistent thrum of the warp engines now matched the blood pounding in the captain's ears. "What are you saying, Commander?" Picard looked from the tiny device in his palm, and back to his Chief Engineer, whose forehead was creased with tension. LaForge had been working tirelessly for hours, Picard knew, in order to prepare the Enterprise for the trip across dimensions, through the ion station, and into the mirror universe. But in the midst of all that, he'd also done the Captain a personal favor.

"It's a mind control device sir," LaForge repeated in a more sympathetic tone. "When I first looked at the scan of the implant inside Mr. Crusher's head-"

"He is not my friend returned from the dead, Mr. LaForge," Picard said in a quiet but intense voice. He looked directly at the engineer, but spoke almost to himself. "He's a criminal."

LaForge nodded. "I'm sorry, Captain...what I meant to say, was that when I first looked at the scans provided by the Star base I could tell it was an amplifier of some sort-similar to my Visor. But, as you know we weren't allowed to ask any further questions about it. Anyway, once his you had the implant b removed, and you had the guy in custody, I thought it made sense to do a more thorough examination of the implant. And what I found was that it is similar to larger hand held mind control weaponry utilized by Ferengi mostly.

"Hmmph...yes, I'm fairly familiar with those," remarked Picard darkly. _And I recall that the effect of Bok's device lingered for some days afterward. Perhaps Wesley and Beverly are experiencing similar disorientation...perhaps I am too._ "The explosive device on the bridge-at least, what was left of it, was also Ferengi technology, according to Lieutenant Worf." He kept his voice measured, but the anger was beginning to bubble up inside of him.

"But while recognizable, this technology is more advanced than what I've seen, Captain. Is it really possible that this guy is from the mirror universe? Because this technology just might be."

 _Wherever he is from he's exacted lasting damage on my crew._ Picard closed his fist around the tiny metal tube. "I didn't ask you to examine this, Geordi. But I thank you for doing so." He gave the officer a rare affectionate squeeze on his shoulder, before stepping away.

* * *

When the captain walked into the detention area on deck 13 he didn't expect to see Wesley sitting outside of the so-far unnamed prisoner's cell. But perhaps he should have. Wesley immediately stood up to face him, and there was different something in his eyes. A desperation. _He wants my help, but is afraid to ask me._

Looking past Wesley, he locked eyes with the imposter. "Mr. Crusher, please step outside for a few minutes."

Wesley hesitated, and looked back into the cell, where the prisoner was happy to engage. "Wes, you don't have to do what he says anymore. Remember? You quit!"

"Mr. Crusher is still a member of my crew," Picard retorted. He beckoned for Wesley to leave.

Wesley's jaw clenched as he glared at Picard. "What are you going to do to him, once I'm gone?" he demanded.

Picard shook his head. "I'll be out in a few minutes, Wesley. We can talk then."

After a reluctant glance at the man he apparently still believed was his father, Wesley left.

Picard immediately advanced on the prisoner, who after taking in his serious expression, simply laughed.

Picard held up the tiny implant. "Where did you get this?"

"Why does it matter? Did its job didn't it?"

"What are you talking about?"

"The guy who put that in my head...he's more powerful than you can imagine."

"My imagination is quite healthy," said Picard. "Please...I'd like more details."

M laughed. "I ought to make you _beg_ for the answers you want, Picard. And once I'm out of here, maybe I will."

"Not likely."

M moved closer to the force field to face Picard. "If your imagination is so good, Picard, you must be imagining what I convinced Beverly to do when I was alone with her. That implant was pretty potent-"

"I don't want to hear anymore of your _lies_ ," Picard said through clenched teeth.

"Then what the hell are you doing here, _old buddy_?"

Picard leaned so close to the field that he could feel the buzz of electricity on his skin. "I'm here to tell you that when all of this is finished, but before you are prosecuted and sent to prison, you and I are going to settle these issues between us."

"Oh, like man to man, or something? Kind of primitive for a sophisticated guy like you, Captain..."

"Wesley won't be back to speak with you again. I will make sure of that. Your game is over," he snapped before walking quickly out of the detention area.

* * *

 ** _MIRROR_**

Captain Picard quickly took in the image on the screen as he and Yar rushed onto the bridge. The attacking ship was sleek, and twice the size of the Enterprise.

"It's the _Contagion_ , Captain. We've taken heavy damage," Riker shouted before jumping up from the command chair. "The ship was cloaked, and she's compromised our hull with her sneak attack."

"Surprise, surprise. Still think she wasn't the one who ambushed us before, Captain?" Troi shouted from communications. "The Crushers have doomed this ship and crew, and you let it happen."

"Shut up," Picard said calmly, settling in to his chair. "Damage report, Yar."

"Aft shield generators are compromised. Compensating," she shouted.

"Bring us about," said Picard, gripping the armrests. "She's already used her best advantage...that of surprise," he murmured, still watching the view screen. _Oh how I love her._ "Fire a full spread of photon torpedoes."

"Firing...their shields are holding," Yar said.

"Bring us over the top, and strafe the bridge, phasers only."

"Her shields are far superior to our own, Captain," Riker warned. "They're deflecting everything we're throwing at them."

"We've taken damage to the underside of the star drive section," Yar shouted, grabbing the railing to steady herself.

"She's retreating," Troi shouted, pointing at the view screen.

Picard chuckled. "Like hell she is...prepare for saucer separation."

"Aye sir," said Yar, typing into her console.

 _"What?"_ Troi cried out from her post.

The ship shook with another blast, and Picard pointed over at Riker. "I want three quarters of the crew to remain with me on the saucer section...that includes you, Riker, so don't get your hopes up. Troi, you and Yar will take the Klingon prisoner, manning the battle bridge. You will proceed in the star drive directly to the coordinates we've discussed, to rendezvous with Commander Troi's captured ships."

Riker shook his head, but leaned in to the intercom. "Attention, crew this is Commander Riker...all but the engineering crew will evacuate to the saucer section in the next five minutes. Consider it a race for your lives that you probably won't win. Until next time, if there is one...Riker out."

Picard turned slightly in his chair to look at Yar, and gave her a small salute, as she stepped away from her post. Troi followed gracefully behind without a word, but several crew members staggered when she passed by them, indicating the intensity of her mood.

"Why keep most of the crew on board the saucer?" Riker asked Picard, careful to keep his voice as bored as possible.

"I need the extra weight," the captain replied easily.

Picard waved lazily at Riker as his first officer slid into the chair at the helm. "Orders sir?" Riker drawled with a grin.

"Separate on my mark," said Picard returning an almost gleeful smile. "I want you to go to full impulse power immediately upon separation, heading 243."

Riker's grin faltered ever so slightly, but he just couldn't give the old man the satisfaction. "A collision course...okay. Beginning separation sequence..."

* * *

 **PRIME**

Jean-Luc walked cautiously toward the boy. "We can talk now, Wesley."

"I don't want to talk to you."

Picard halted. "That's fine. Perhaps later?"

Wesley shrugged noncomittally. "What did you do to him?"

"Nothing. I promise you."

"Until we cross to the other universe again. Then you're going to hand him over to be murdered."

Picard was taken aback. "Is that what he's been telling you?"

"I can see what's been happening between you and my mother. I have eyes and ears. You want him out of the way."

The Captain shook his head and grabbed Wesley by the shoulders and looked into his eyes. "He's not your father, Wesley." He held up the implant. "He's a con man, who used this device to trick us all into believing he was Jack. But he's not Jack."

Wesley tried to shake himself loose. "Liar!" Picard to his own surprise, tried to embrace Wesley, but Wesley lashed out, pushing him away. "I hate you!"

Picard grabbed his healing side protectively, stunned at the boy's violent reaction. He took a step back, watching the fear and confusion mix in the teen's eyes. He was about to concede defeat when his communicator buzzed. He tapped it, just as the deck shuddered underneath their feet. "Picard here. What just happened?"

"Data here, captain. We have reached the designated coordinates of the target ion station, sir. What you just felt was the ship encountering an interphase pocket, indicating conditions are optimal for interdimensional transfer."

"On my way," he said, watching Wesley walk away in the other direction.


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter 38**

* * *

 **PRIME**

"Come in," Beverly called out. She glanced up as the nurse walked by her carrying Jeanette. "I'll be out of your way in a few minutes Carmen, I just need to make sure I have everything." She shoved another hypo cartridge into the medkit before closing it.

"No problem, Doctor. Just please try to stay safe today," said the young woman, wandering away again.

She'd forgotten about her visitor, and looked up distractedly to find Deanna standing there. She recalled how things had been left between them last time, and she now felt more regret than anger in her heart. Deanna had known, if only for a time that the person pretending to be Jack wasn't really Jack, and she had kept this fact from Beverly in order not to compromise the investigation. "Hi" Beverly said.

"Hi," Deanna replied. "I've come to apologize for my part in causing you pain, Beverly. I know you must feel what I did was a betrayal of trust."

"You were under orders,"Beverly said tightly. "I know it wasn't your fault," she added, trying to inject some kindness into her tone this time.

"But you're still angry..."

Beverly sighed, and stood up straight, letting go of her medkit for a moment. " _Yes,"_ she admitted. "But not at you, I just feel angry at ...everything."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Beverly shrugged. "Maybe later. I'm on one of the five away teams assigned to make contact with the ships once we cross over...assuming they're all present. I've been assigned to the _Nova_."

Trouble nodded grimly. "I know...I've been assigned to accompany Captain Picard to the _Phoenix_ as soon as we make contact."

Beverly pulled on her lab coat. "He doesn't need to go, but he's insisting on putting himself in harm's way. I don't like it, but since I'm the same way it's hard sometimes to criticize him."

Deanna laughed, which made Beverly smile.

"Who's going stay with Jeanette?"

Beverly nodded toward her bedroom. "Carmen is watching her until I return."

Deanna nodded, and moved to sit down on a nearby couch. She clasped her hands together at her knees, looking down pensively.

"What's wrong?" Beverly asked with a frown.

Troi looked up at her with a worried expression. "Do you think you and I are friends in the mirror universe?"

Beverly was completely surprised by the question. She hadn't had time to think of her counterpart in the mirror universe, but she recalled, Troi hadn't had a choice. She had explained to Beverly that she had already been introduced to the tactics of Troi's Terran counterpart when they had attempted to rescue the poor people tortured on that commercial freighter.

The lone survivor, and he hadn't survived long, had identified Troi-or someone who resembled her, as one of his assailants. And then he had died. So if Troi was having a crisis of sorts, it made sense. Beverly knew the experience had left her friend unsettled, but she had been so preoccupied with the turmoil in her own life, that she hadn't seen it. Beverly sat down beside her friend, and took her hand affectionately. "I don't see why not...perhaps it's not as bad as we fear it will be."

* * *

When Picard arrived on the bridge, Riker took him aside briefly. "LaForge assures me he can get us out of this, if he has to," Riker said quietly. There was no nervousness in his voice, but his eyes betrayed the same fears the captain was feeling.

"I know, Will. We have to trust our people. It is the only way we will succeed."

"Yes sir."

"Report."

"We have reached the coordinates provided by T'Pel's star map, Captain," said Data.

"Sensors detect a spatial rift, beyond which should lie an ion station."

Picard looked with surprise toward the back of the bridge. T'Pel sat at one of the science stations, apparently monitoring their progress, and had turned halfway to regard him.

"If the station is active, we will experience a transfer similar to your previous encounter with the mirror universe," she added.

He nodded and then walked forward to where Ensign McKnight sat at the helm. Normally Wesley would have been seated there, which caused him to think of his argument with the young man. Then, putting it out of his mind, he said "Proceed."

 _Proceed. Proceed. Proceed._ He heard his own voice speaking again and again. His eyelids felt so heavy that he was compelled to close them. But when an image of a mocking, bearded version of himself entered his brain, he was afraid to open his eyes for what he might see.

"Transfer complete," he heard Data say distantly. He forced his eyes open to find that a grey haze permeated the bridge. Instead of dissipating, the greyness seemed to fold inward until it had disappeared, and color returned to the objects and people around him.

"Report," his said, regaining his voice. He leaned on the back of McKnight's post. The ensign appeared fine, and she glanced up at him, quietly confident.

"Captain," said Data, "we have successfully transferred to the mirror universe. An ion station is located approximately 3000 meters from our position and is now visible."

He tapped the intercom. "Mr. LaForge?"

 _"The ship is intact and operating at 93% efficiency, Captain. Which isn't bad, considering everything we've been through, sir."_

"Very good."

Riker nearly jumped out of his seat, pointing at the forward viewscreen. "They're all there!"

By "they're", Riker meant the five missing Federation ships. And he was correct.

"Confirming the Federation signatures of the _Acadia_ , the _Fermi_ , the _Nova_ , the _Sausalito_ and the _Phoenix_ , Captain," reported Data.

"Noted," said Picard seriously, typing some information into his armrest control. "Scan for life signs."

Riker's euphoria began to shift into confusion, as he took in the images on the screen. The ships were powered down, seemingly lifeless, and even more oddly, were configured in an strange geometric formation.

Will turned to look at the captain, who was concentrated on studying the readouts on his control panel.

"No other vessels detected in the vicinity, Captain." said Worf.

"Life sign readings for all five vessels, Captain," said Data.

"Captain," Worf said gravely. "We must use caution. It could be a trap."

"Yes, of course it could," Picard murmured. _And that's why we won't be hailing those ships. If the Terrans already know we're here, why give them an even greater advantage?_

"Sir, given what we've seen of these Terrans so far...we have to expect violence," Riker reminded him.

"Yes, Number One," Picard agreed, finally standing up. He tugged at his uniform tunic. "And we have prepared accordingly. Organize the away teams for immediate transport."

"Aye sir."

Picard waited for a moment, as Captain Louvois stepped out of the turbolift and moved in to the command area. "You're sure you're up to bridge duty?" he asked with a thin smile. She had agreed to command the ship while he was on the away mission.

"Absolutely," she said with a coy smile. "But is your crew ready for me?"

He laughed. "They've been well trained to handle anything...even you, Captain."

"Good to know," she said settling into the captain's chair.

Picard walked toward the turbolift, but slowed as he passed science station 2. The still figure was studying the sensor array intently. "Thank you for agreeing to monitor the ion station for us, T'Pel."

She turned to regard him with a single raised eyebrow.

"Your temporary exit from retirement has been rather invaluable," he continued.

"I am here to serve, Captain," she said simply. She turned back to her post. "According to the sensors, the station is slightly unstable..."

"How so?"

"I would surmise it has been used infrequently by the Terrans. A scan shows signs of neglect and hull damage."

"If we had to, could we repair one of these stations?"

She glanced at him. "Logic would suggest that since we now have a theoretical understanding of how such machines work, that the answer to your question is yes. However, theory does not always match reality."

 _A simple 'maybe' would have sufficed._ "Alright then," he said stepping aside. "Please report anything out of the ordinary to Captain Louvois."

"Yes, Captain Picard. I trust that you will endeavor to maintain your personal safety at all times."

Unaccustomed as he was to experiencing genuine Vulcan concern, he paused a moment before resuming his stride from the bridge.

* * *

 ** _MIRROR_**

 ** _ISS Enterprise_**

"Saucer separation complete... course set for 243," said Riker, giving the captain a nasty backward glance. _What's he got planned for Troi? Why split us up? He must be on to us..._

Picard sat forward in his command chair, poised as though ready to spring through the front of the ship. "Full impulse power."

Riker felt the sweat just begin to stream down from his hairline. The muscles in his back were impossibly tense. His hand hovered over the helm controls. Then he did something very important. He hesitated.

He heard footsteps behind him, and he turned around just as Picard put a hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong, _Billy Boy_? I just gave you an order," he was speaking softly, which Riker knew to be a sign of danger.

Riker turned back the controls. "What are you going to do with Troi?" he asked wiping the sweat from his brow.

" _Full_ impulse," Picard nearly roared in his ear. "You heard me!"

Riker turned and grabbed Picard by the neck, shoving him backwards. The Captain reeled backwards, nearly tripping as Riker pulled a knife from his boot and stalked forward.

"Traitor!" Picard lowered his head and ran toward Will grabbing him around the mid-section. As Riker felt the air exit from his lungs, he stabbed with the knife, but it glanced off the implant in the back of Picard's neck with a clanking sound. As they hit the deck together, Riker shoved the heel of his hand up into the captain's chin, hearing a satisfying click and a grunt. Rolling over, Riker tried to throttle his opponent again. "You insane bastard, you're going to kill us all!"

"Captain, she's firing on us again!" shouted the officer at tactical.

"Return fire!" Picard managed to choke out, even with Riker's hands wrapped around his throat.

 _Shields are compromised_ , reported the computer. _Failure is imminent._

"You hear that, you son of a bitch? You _failed_ ," Riker shouted down at him.

Picard used his angry momentum to roll to the left, striking Riker in the temple with his right elbow. Will flopped over, woozy but still conscious, as Picard staggered to his feet, fighting for air.

"In the name of the Terran Empire...I charge you with treason," he gasped, leaning over with his hands on his knees.

Riker brought himself up into a sitting position. " _I'm_ committing treason? You're the one provoking a civil war with the highest ranking officer in the fleet."

He watched as Picard snapped his fingers and two guards approached. Picard pointed at Riker. "Take him into custody. Let it be a lesson to all who dare disobey me."

Riker, still seated, began to laugh slowly. He didn't bother to struggle when the guards pulled him roughly to his feet. Meanwhile the deck shook with another volley of fire from Crusher's ship. "You were bluffing all the time! You never intended for us to collide with her ship. You wanted me to disobey you."

Picard straightened and gave Riker a sly smile. "Did I? You may never know." He nodded to the guards. "Bring him to the Agony Booth."

* * *

Once Riker was off the bridge, Picard strode forward, wiping some of the blood from his neck and chin. _One must always look at least halfway presentable._ "Cease fire," he shouted, realizing for the first time that he and the wide-eyed tactical officer, who was a poor excuse for a replacement for Yar, were the only two officers left on the bridge.

"Aye sir."

"Hail them," he said.

* * *

 ** _Imperial Medical Ship Contagion_**

 _Five minutes earlier..._

"Their shields are compromised, Admiral," LaForge reported from Ops. Suddenly he spun from his station. "Admiral, they're separating! The star drive just went into warp."

 _Damn!_ Beverly leapt to her feet. "Track them," she ordered sharply.

"They're be-beyond sensor range now," Lieutenant Barclay reported from the back of the bridge.

Admiral Crusher slammed her fist into her palm, and paced back and forth. She glared at the view screen where the battle-scarred saucer section continued to fire sporadic shots, only to be thwarted by her unfailing shields. _He's nearly dead in the water. What is his game?_ "Fire," she suddenly shouted with all of her fury.

"They are taking _serious_ damage," said LaForge. "Wonder what he's waiting for over there."

"We're being hailed, Ad-Admiral," announced Barclay.

"On screen."

Picard stood on a smoky and apparently deserted bridge. He looked like he had just been in a violent altercation, but of course she was less than concerned, given that she continued to batter his ship with torpedoes. Despite his appearance, he spread his arms wide with an engaging smile. "I _surrender._..."

"You _what?_ "

Picard frowned in mock confusion. "Oh is the transmission weak? Did my words not get through? Could be you've seriously damaged our communications array with all of that phaser fire..."

She pointed at the screen. "Picard-"

"Picard?" He actually looked hurt. "Why so formal? We're friends aren't we, Beverly? More than friends, in the best of times-"

"You look like you've been abandoned," she observed pointedly. "Where is your loyal crew?"

"My crew is forever loyal to me," he shot back.

"Oh? Then where's Riker?"

"Agony Booth," he replied easily.

"Ah," she said, not really sounding surprised. He started to say something else, but she interrupted him.

"Enough! I don't want your surrender, Captain. I want my prisoner. Now is he on the star drive? No doubt he is, and your little display here is meant to distract me from my prize."

"If he's on the star drive, and I'm not admitting that he is...you'll need my help to get him back."

"Nonsense. I'll simply track down the star drive, and take what I want."

"Now, Admiral, you didn't think I'd make it that easy for you, did you?"

* * *

When Picard materialized on board Crusher's bridge, there was a hush among the crew. He may have been the Admiral's enemy, but he was still legendary after all. He gave a slight bow in her direction.

Beverly turned to regard him stonily, arms crossed. "I've beamed you over, Jean-Luc. Now what do you have to say for yourself?"

"What I have to say, is best kept just between us," he said, sauntering closer. "Perhaps you'd like to meet alone?"

She turned her back and walked away from him without a word, and he took the opportunity to lean over Geordi at ops. "Your days are numbered," he whispered. LaForge kept his gaze forward, and said nothing, just clenched his jaw angrily.

When Beverly turned back around, she beckoned for her guards. "Lock him up."

"Agony Booth, Admiral?" one of the guards suggested helpfully. Picard fixed him with a furious stare as the man approached and took him by the arm.

She shrugged. "No, I need him coherent, not blubbering yet. Just get him out of my sight," she waved in disgust.

Walking over to LaForge, she put a hand on his shoulder. "Geordi," she said sweetly. "I need you to beam over to the _Enterprise._..or what's left of it."

He glanced up at her in genuine surprise. "Sir?"

"Take charge of the saucer section. We're bringing it along with us to find my Klingon prisoner."

LaForge got up reluctantly. "Yes, Admiral."

"Oh, and Geordi," she called after him as he was headed to the turbo lift. He turned around questioningly. "A word of advice...keep Riker locked up."

* * *

 **USS _Nova_ inside the Mirror Universe**

When Doctor Beverly Crusher transported onto the bridge of the science vessel _Nova_ , she saw Data was already present, waving his tricorder slowly around in the center of the bridge. She knew that three more teams of two were deployed elsewhere on the ship exploring and looking for survivors.

The auxiliary power was on, leaving the bridge fairly dark, but she could still see the three bodies on the deck. Two men and one woman. She immediately knelt down, and brought out her tricorder. But she didn't need a medical instrument to know that these three officers were dead.

The officers were dressed oddly, with sleeveless red tunics and black pants. Over their chests were silver colored sashes, bearing what she now recognized to be the insignia of the Terran Empire. She moved from one body to the other quickly, coming to the same conclusion for each one.

She stood up quickly and approached Data, who was studying his tricorder intently. "I am reading life signs for all 330 crew members," he said.

She sighed with minimal relief, and gestured at the deck. "These three are Terrans, I presume. All dead. All three had their necks broken, and have been dead for several days from what I can tell. Each one has a small puncture in their neck, indicating they were...embalmed. Which is why they are lying here, fairly well preserved."

Data looked mildly surprised. "Embalmed? By whom?"

Suddenly, the lights turned fully on, as the sound of generators kicked in. Beverly's heartbeat skipped and then slowed almost painfully as a familiar scene was unveiled. Dark shapes began moving eerily at the science stations around the bridge, as the computers seemed to come to life with beeps and whirring activity. Unfazed, Data walked toward one of the shapes, and it turned and displayed a mechanical appendage from where its hand had once been. The appendage spun like a drill in Data's direction, before the figure turned stiffly back to what it had been doing. Beverly felt her mouth hanging open in shock, but was unable to speak.

"Data to Captain Picard."

 _"Picard here."_ The sound of his voice immediately made Beverly feel less agitated, but his voice sounded highly stressed. _"Data, we have a situation here...quite unanticipated."_

"Yes, sir. The crew of the _Nova_ are alive, but appear to have been assimilated by the Borg."

 _"Yes, Data. The same is true here on the Phoenix, and Riker is reporting the same for the Sausalito. We need to get out of here as soon as-"_

The channel abruptly cut out, and Captain Louvois came on. _"Attention away teams, I am bringing you back to the Enterprise immediately-wait...stand by...my god, there is a Borg cube...it's immense. It was somehow cloaked, but it's been here all along."_

 _"Captains... LaForge here. There is some kind of shielding around all five of our ships. I can't get a lock on any of you."_

 _"Stay calm, Captain Louvois,"_ came Picard's voice.

" _Enterprise to away teams, we are under attack!"_

* * *

 **Thanks for reviewing, guys. Take care. -PP**


	40. Chapter 40

**Chapter 39**

* * *

 _ **ISS Stargazer (Re-fit)**_

Jack Crusher glanced up from the monitor, and the blue light illuminated his scarred face. "You're certain that this LaForge guy is on the _Contagion_ , right?"

Wesley took his time walking over. "Yeah, he's the Chief Engineer, genius asshole in charge, whatever you want to call him...and did I mention that he and my mom have been getting it on?"

" _What?"_

Wes nodded seriously. "Oh yeah, it's been going on for a while."

Jack's expression grew darker. "Good," he said. "It will be that much easier to see her humiliated in the end." He returned his attention to the sensors.

"'In the end'...'I'll get my revenge', blah, blah blah...dad you sound like a crybaby, not someone who we all should be afraid of. You consistently bring the disappointment, I'll give you that."

"Keep it up, son, I still have the agonizer, within reach," Jack muttered. Suddenly his eyes grew wide. "Oh no...Pots, get over here!"

The human from the Lesser Universe turned reluctantly from his lunch to look at Jack. "Huh?"

"Get over here!"

The man lumbered past a now curious Wesley Crusher to loom over his boss. "Yeah, Boss?"

" _Look_ ," Jack nearly shouted pointing into the monitor. "That's the _Contagion_ two sectors over...and there's another ship traveling with them-can't identify it yet."

"So?"

" _So?_ Is that all you have to say? Look where she's headed," he said double checking her course.

"Uh oh," Pots agreed, looking unenthusiastic about the whole thing.

"Yeah, uh oh is right, She's headed for the stolen ships from the Lesser Universe located next to Ion Station 4. We can't follow her right now, that's all there is to it." He paced away, running his hand through his hair, and whispering to himself.

Wesley looked on with increasing interest. "What's going on?"

Jack slammed the monitor out of his way and stood up. "What's going on _son_ is that there is a Borg ship cloaked in that area, and has been for a few weeks. That means everyone on the _Contagion_ will be dead, and we will be too if we're stupid enough to follow them."

"What would the Borg want with the stolen ships?"

"How would I know?"

"Well, you knew the Borg were there and cloaked...how did you know that?" Wesley asked with a smile.

Jack said nothing but Wesley could see he was growing more agitated by the nano-second.

"They probably just want them for parts...human and mechanical," offered Pots, munching on some kind of sandwich.

Wesley looked at him with disgust, but shrugged in agreement. "The Lesser guy's right. They'll probably ignore us."

"Unless they see something they like in the _Stargazer_."

"This piece of shit? Okay," Wesley laughed, walking away.

"You're underestimating this ship, Wes'...it was a piece of shit when Jean-Luc commanded it. Now, she's been seriously upgraded."

"Whatever," Wesley shouted back at him. "You're scared. Either follow through on something in your life, or don't!"

"You might be right about me being afraid, Wes', but you don't know the Borg," Jack called after him. "Ask Pots...they've done damage in his universe too-right, Pots?"

"Yeah, they're real nasty," Pots said between bites of food. "And yet kinda boring."

"And they are about to do worse in our own universe if we don't follow through with our plan," warned Jack.

Wesley spun back around. "Is that what you're trying to do? Stop the Borg? I thought you wanted to kill Data to gain power and humiliate Picard and my mother?"

"Well...that's just the first piece of the plan."

"Which is ultimately to gain power for yourself... _right_?"

Jack fell silent and just stared at his son.

"Who upgraded this ship, Dad? And who are you working for?"

Jack broke into a crazy grin, but there was more than a modicum of fear in his eyes. "Not yet. Not until I get my intel on Data."

"How the hell are you going to get that, if you can't get LaForge? Listen, LaForge is headed toward the Borg, so if you want that information in his Visor system, we're going to have to encounter the Borg."

Pots had moved toward Jack and leaned down whispering something into Jack's ear. Jack suddenly lashed out at the larger man, pushing him away. He pointed at him with an insane gleam in his eye. "No! I'm not doing it. It hasn't been tested!"

"First time for everything," Pots said with a shrug.

Jack shook his head, he walked away talking to himself again. "I could kill us all. But I _need_ that intel."

"What hasn't been tested?" Wesley sat down at the helm and stared at his father. "Wait...do you have some kind of ridiculous weapon on this ship?"

Jack looked at him. "That's one way of putting it."

"I know something about weapons, and I can do anything with technology. Probably more than this Lesser heap can do," he glared over at Pots, who was eating a large piece of chocolate cake. "Use a fork, will you? Or has the fork not been invented in your universe?"

Pots grinned at him with a smile full of chocolate.

Jack leaned on the tactical station. "I believe you, son. I bet you could do anything with a normal weapon. But there are weapons, and then there are _weapons_..."

"And what kind of weapon is this?"

"Subspace cannon," said Pots. "Operates through the deflector dish," he said before emitting a long burp.

 _Whoa._ Wesley leaned into his seat. "Let me see the schematics."

Pots looked at Jack, who nodded his asset. Pots activated a control, and a hologram was projected in the center of the bridge.

Wesley got up and walked over trying to contain his excitement. He held out his hand, and scrolled though the written specs. "You're right. Right now this thing could easily destroy us, and if it doesn't it will at the very least put us out of commission for a while." _This isn't Terran technology._ He continued to read the information. "Why is it designed to detect tetryons?"

"The interior atmosphere of a Borg cube is full of tetryons," said Pots. "This is a cube killer."

"Potentially," Jack added.

Wesley nodded. "And tetryons can be energized, and when that happens they are highly volatile. If this thing manipulates tetryons, you could do almost anything you wanted to disrupt the systems in the ship." He shook his head. "It's awesome, but the shockwave will affect not just the Borg ship but everything in its path."

"And that includes us and Beverly's ship, not to mention the Lesser ships which are doomed anyway," said Jack. "Since all ships have some subspace influence, we're all at risk. The weapon's not ready."

Wesley smiled confidently. "Let me take a look at the real thing. I can modify it so that the shockwave is more directed and we can stay out of its path."

* * *

 ** _IMS Contagion_**

Beverly stood very still outside of the detention cell. "Talk. Why did you surrender to me?"

Picard lay stretched out on the cell's hard bench, one foot crossed over the other. He had been staring up at the ceiling, but closed his eyes and smiled contentedly when he heard her voice. "Get rid of the guard...or are you afraid to be alone with me?"

There was an almost instant swish sound, as a door opened and closed nearby. He opened his eyes to find her standing over him, arms crossed. He glanced in surprise beyond the force field that now corralled both of them inside the holding cell. He regained his center, smiling up at her suggestively. "What a gorgeous sight. Could I be dreaming?"

Beverly's upper lip twitched, and for a moment he thought she was going to smile at him. Instead she said, "Get up."

He sat up slowly, not breaking her gaze. "Whatever you say..."

She sat down beside him on the bench staring at the force field. After a moment she said. "You don't honestly believe I'm afraid of you, do you?"

He glanced briefly at the handheld agonizer holstered at her hip. If he had wanted to, he could have reached out and grabbed it. "No," he admitted. "But my words were enough to provoke you into action."

"This from a man who controls and manipulates with mere words," she responded coldly.

He turned toward her, and raised the back of his hand as if to graze her cheek, but she grabbed his wrist swiftly. "Don't you dare touch me," she snapped. "You are on my ship, and my prisoner, and I won't have you forget it." She released him roughly, and exhaled loudly staring up at the ceiling. "You really test my patience, do you know that?"

He scratched his beard as though pondering philosophy. "That irritation you feel when you hear me speak...that itch on the back of your neck when I come near-these are just signs of your immense love for me, Beverly. When will you remember this?"

She laughed harshly.

"Did you ever even love me?" he asked pointedly.

"Not as much as you love yourself."

He smiled, leaning toward her. "That's something at least." He paused, but was unable to prevent himself from asking the question. "What did you love about me?"

She glared at him. He made a gesture as if to prompt her, and she rolled her eyes up at the ceiling. "You're brilliant," she said eventually in a low voice. "That's why."

He stared at her, trying to keep his amazement hidden. "Well...I'm still brilliant," he suggested.

She laughed again. "You must think I am a fool, Jean-Luc. You talk as though we are meant to be together-"

"We are," he insisted.

"And yet, together we self-destruct," she said, looking at him. "You know this is true. So if we can't exist side by side in the Terran empire, one of us has to die. And it's not going to be me," she said with a thin smile.

He got up from the bench and walked toward the force field. "I offered you my allegiance, Beverly. And where we are headed you will find ships at your disposal."

"Oh yes, about those ships," she said. "Why do I doubt that those ships will be ready and accessible for me to control?"

"Because you doubt my abilities," he said, turning halfway to face her.

"No, because you are an expert liar," she said, getting up from the bench to face him. "And because those ships are not under your control-they're Troi's captives aren't they?"

He fixed her with an irritated stare. "Troi is under my command," he said stiffly.

"Is she? Can someone who can murder with her very thoughts ever really be under anyone's command? Think about it, Jean-Luc. You had me insert a duranium plate in your head to protect your brain from her bombardment. And frankly, despite your claims of continued brilliance, I don't think it worked. She is a bomb waiting to go off."

He stepped closer to her. "LaForge is putting doubt in your mind. It's obvious to me that you rely on him now for your information. Not a wise decision, Beverly."

 _"Please."_

"He doesn't have the power and influence I have. Why even bother with him at all?"

"Do you really want all the details, Jean-Luc? Because if you've been dying to know..."

He abruptly covered his ears and stepped back. "No, no...I don't want to hear this."

"Why? You could take a few blows to your ego. Maybe the reality of me with someone else is what's really causing your demise. All along, I thought it was Troi, but I've been wrong before."

"My _demise_? What a cruel woman you are."

She suddenly reached around to the back of his neck, and touched the Borg implant.

"Hey!" He jerked his neck backward, and took another step back. He brought his hand up to touch the implant. "What did you just do?"

"Nothing. But it's interesting to see how important that thing is to you. You _like_ it...don't you?"

He shrugged. "It's useful new technology. Why wouldn't I?"

She looked like she wanted to throttle him, so much so that he was reminded of the bruises on his neck, where Riker had recently done just that. "You are the fool, Jean-Luc. The Borg are infiltrating the Terran Empire, and they have already taken control of the Emperor. Do you think that somehow that implant was just for your benefit?"

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that the Borg intend to bring you and your beloved but dented ship back to Terra for assimilation." She poked him in the chest, and not in a gentle way. "And I can't let that happen. I swear, Jean-Luc, if I have to save the empire by killing you, I won't hesitate. You're the first Terran captain with this type of technology, and you are going to be _integral_ to the fall of the Terran Empire."

He seemed to freeze, for the first time considering that his tactical device could be a detriment. "No," he said quietly.

"Yes," she hissed. "Still feeling brilliant?"

Her communicator beeped. "Go ahead," she snapped.

 _"Admiral, LaForge here. Are you free to talk?"_

"What part of 'go ahead' confused you?" she demanded.

 _"First of all the Klingon isn't here on the saucer section. We completed a sweep, and he was nowhere to be found. It also turned out Riker was very free with the info...Worf is on the star drive with Troi and Yar and a handful of red-shirt cronies. And we've got them back on our sensors now."_

"Excellent," she winked at Picard with a triumphant smile.

" _Uh, you might want to cut short the celebration, Admiral...I'm also reading a very large vessel one sector over, where the captured Starfleet ships are, and where we're all headed."_

Beverly's heart jumped. "Large? How large?"

 _"Based on the specs, looks like a Borg Cube."_

* * *

 ** _USS Phoenix (Assimilated)_**

" _Enterprise to away teams, we are under attack!"_

Picard fell to one knee as a high pitched electronic screech burrowed into his ears. Blood spattered onto the deck, and he reached up to wipe his bleeding nose. He tried to crawl toward Troi, who was also on the deck, desperately trying to cover her ears to shut out the sound. Abruptly the sound ceased, and they collapsed onto the deck, trying to recover. Eventually Picard sat up and looked over at Deanna, who was now beginning to get to her feet. "Are you alright?" he asked.

She nodded. "Yes. You?"

He nodded, then looked around the bridge. There were fifteen Borg, who indeed appeared to be the former members of the bridge crew. He got to his feet, and walked toward the back of the bridge. One figure looked familiar. A slight figure of a woman he had known for many years, now twisted into a Borg drone. "Captain Amador," he heard himself say.

The figure turned stiffly to regard him impassively. Her once tan skin was now greyish, and her lips moved but no sound came out.

"Captain...Alicia, I know it's you in there," he said. He had begun to feel ill, and his skin crawled with a cold perspiration. The drone turned back to its work diligently. He felt Troi take his arm, steering him away. "Captain, her consciousness is buried very deeply. We may not be able to reach her."

"She hears me," he said. "Believe me, I know."

* * *

 _ **USS Enterprise**_

"Evasive maneuvers," Philippa Louvois shouted out. She'd always wanted to say that, but at the moment, she would much rather not have to.

"It is no use, Captain," Worf said from tactical. "We are being held fast by the Borg tractor beam."

"Options?"

"I am modulating the shield frequencies. It will serve to frustrate the beam, but only for so long," he said.

"Good," said Louvois, gripping the armrests. "Then what?"

"The Borg will likely engage a cutting beam if they either wish to destroy us, or to extract materials from our ship."

"Great. Can we retrieve any of our people from the captured ships?"

"Not as long as we are under the grip of this tractor beam."

"Captain, we're being scanned," reported McKnight.

The lights flickered and an ominous group of voices emanated through the ship. _"Imperial Starship Enterprise 1701-D. We are the Borg. Your commanding officer is Captain Jean-Luc Picard of the Terran Empire. Your captain will peacefully surrender at once."_

* * *

 **Hi everyone, thanks for reading and for your reviews, which I do appreciate. If you continue to read, I will continue to write. Best. -PP**


	41. Chapter 41

**Chapter 40**

* * *

 **USS Enterprise Inside Mirror Universe**

 _"This is Security Chief Worf...we are under attack. All civilians are to report to quarters, immediately. Reserve crews are to report to their posts and await further instructions."_

As the red alert began to blare, Carmen rushed toward the baby's room. Running to the doorway, she learned to her shock that the baby was not alone. "Who are you?" she nearly screamed. The slim figure turned to regard her calmly. The grey-skinned alien smiled at her in a kind but curious way.

"She is progressing faster than I originally thought." He turned back to look down at Jeanette, who was resting quietly in her crib.

Carmen stepped forward as confidently as possible. "Please, I don't know what you want, but you need to leave her alone."

"Oh, I mean her no harm. But I am concerned that her progress may be too swift for such a young person. I have come to ensure that she is safe."

"Progress? You need to leave."

"Very well." The alien continued to smile serenely as his body phased slowly out of view. Carmen ran to the crib to find Jeanette sleeping peacefully.

* * *

 **ISS Enterprise-Star Drive**

Troi circled. "As soon as Picard has captured his duplicate, all of your efforts to please him will be forgotten. What I would like to know, Lieutenant, is what could you possibly be getting out of this?"

Yar sat in the captain's chair on the battle bridge, while Troi stood nearby. Meanwhile, the Klingon prisoner, Worf sat in force field restraints just a meter away from Yar. He had been sedated, and appeared barely conscious. As the captain had ordered, no one else was on the battle bridge, and the star drive section had been evacuated with the exception of the engineering officers. For the moment, Tasha wished she was the only officer on the bridge, as Troi began to put pressure on. _She's bad news_ , Yar thought darkly. But the captain was always planning, and so she was sure he had sent Troi along for a good reason.

"I'm doing my duty," said Yar, flatly. "That's all I need."

Trouble laughed mockingly. "Your _duty..._ how adorably naive of you Natasha." She stepped closer and slid her hand onto Yar's shoulder. "You don't mind if I call you Natasha, do you?"

Even with the electromagnetic field in place from the device the captain had given her, Tasha could feel that Troi was attempting to use her telepathic powers to invade her psyche. If Troi was frustrated however, she had not yet shown it. Yar adjusted the sash on her uniform and glanced up at Troi warily.

"Doesn't matter", Yar mumbled, returning her attention to the helm controls on her armrest. "We'll be at the designated coordinates in 10 minutes," she announced to the nearly empty bridge.

The Klingon was beginning to stir, and he let out a low growl. Yar and Troi glanced over at him with little concern, because he was well-restrained.

"A lot can happen in 10 minutes Natasha," Troi whispered with a smile. "What is Picard's game? Perhaps a change in plans...is he joining up with his ex?" she leaned in conspiratorially. "Is that the case?"

"I wouldn't know," Yar said slowly. All of a sudden it was so difficult to think clearly, and to focus on her immediate duty which was to get the ship to its destination. Her vision blurred as she attempted to focus. Of course it was the Troi Effect. The device the captain had given her had knowable limits after all.

Troi moved around in front of Yar and crouched down. "You're perspiring, Natasha...why is that? Usually you are so in control. You may not have noticed, but I find I like that about you. Perhaps I enjoy a challenge."

Yar shook her head and blinked, checking the readouts again. Traveling along at warp 8, everything seemed in order, but she squinted looking at the coordinates. Something was off. The battle bridge was made for battle, not long range sensing.

"I need to correct our course," she murmured. "Something is showing up that wasn't there before...a gravimetric distortion of some kind." She quickly typed in the adjustment, which was necessary to avoid the instant death that would be achieved by flying through the object at warp eight.

"It seems you're holding back on me Natasha," Troi said, moving her hand to Yar's knee. "Perhaps the captain gave you a little something to help you to shield your thoughts from me. He thinks he's so clever." She stood up and leaned down bringing her lips close to Yar's ear. "But it's really a pity. We could have so much fun together."

"Goddammit," Yar suddenly shouted. "Will you just leave me alone? I can't focus with you hanging over me all the time!"

Something in Troi's eyes flickered dangerously, but she didn't move a muscle. " _Finally_ some emotion! I welcome liveliness in my friends Natasha. Trust me...it is much more rewarding to be my friend, than it is to be my enemy," she said in a seductive voice. She traced her finger down the edge of Yar's sash, inching toward her communicator. With some effort, Tasha reached up to catch the woman's hand quickly at the last moment.

Yar pushed her superior away and got up from the captain's chair. "I know what you're doing, and it's not going to work."

Troi straightened to her full height, and her expression was no longer pleasant. "Have it your way...just keep in mind, I don't accept rejection well. In fact, I can't recall the last time someone rejected my advances and lived." She turned and walked swiftly toward Worf, who looked up at her with dazed, bloodshot eyes.

"What are you doing? You're not authorized to handle that prisoner," Yar warned.

"I could kill this pathetic Klingon and destroy Picard's bargaining chip and Crusher's ally all at once!" Troi pulled out a small but menacingly sharp knife, and waved it near Worf. Yar knew this knife along with its owner had a reputation for precision torture, but Yar still half-believed Troi was bluffing. But then the vindictive smile returned as Troi put the knife away and held her empty hand over the prisoner's face. Within seconds Worf began to shake, and his eyes rolled upward.

"No! Get away from him!" Yar shouted, rushing at Troi.

Troi ignored her, and moved her hand slightly in mid air, which had the effect of effortlessly throwing the large Klingon to the deck where he continued to spasm.

Suddenly the lights dimmed and the yellow alert began to sound. The deck rocked, tilted violently, and Troi was propelled across the bridge, tumbling with a crash into the far wall. Warning. _Warning...inertial dampers compromised._ There was a shrieking noise and a conduit blew on the wall, exuding steam into the air. Yar struggled to stay upright, falling to one knee, before the deck tipped again at a near 90 degree angle, and she caught the crook of her left elbow over the back of the command chair, holding on tightly to keep from falling. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Troi tumble past her again, possibly unconscious...possibly dead.

After another frantic moment, the floor evened out enough that Yar threw herself into the seat, and tried to get control of the helm. "Engineering, report," she shouted leaning on her right elbow, which was now her good one. She knew her left arm was in bad shape, and so she simply didn't look at it, as the pain threatened to grey out her vision.

" _We've come out of warp, sir"_ came the engineer's voice. " _But it wasn't by choice. We hit some subspace turbulence and the gravimetric shear did a job on our propulsion and nav systems. Took everything I had just to fix the dampers and get us straightened out. Anyway, we made it to our destination."_

"I need the propulsion systems back online, no excuses Argyle!"

 _"Aye sir...do what I can,_ " came the gruff reply. " _But they might not do us much good."_

 _"What?"_

"Check your main viewer."

Yar shifted her weight painfully to the right again, typing quickly with her good hand. The viewer, which had clearly been damaged, slowly turned on. The image was distorted, but clear enough to show a large cube shaped image...and a far more familiar ship nearby.

The Borg...and an intact ISS Enterprise located nearby, held by a tractor beam. But there was only one ISS Enterprise, wasn't there? And she was on half of it. Yar felt her blood pressure drop, and her vision seemed to fade. "Computer, identify all ships within a 10,000 meter radius of the star drive."

 _Sensors show a Borg cube, and an unidentified star ship._

She gritted her teeth. "Okay...zoom to 32.5 and enhance image." She blinked as the grainy images on the faulty screen grew closer, if not clearer. But now she could make out the markings on the Enterprise look-alike. "USS Enterprise...NCC 1701-D." Yar whispered to herself. "Wow. They're from the Lesser Universe." The captain would have his double after all. Suddenly she broke into a grin and triumphantly pounded the chair armrest with her bad fist. The pain felt good, reminding her that she was alive. Slowly she sobered, remembering the captain had been left behind in the vulnerable saucer section. But if she was to have any chance to reunite with him, she had to be smart, not emotional. She glanced at the navigation and propulsion systems which continued to blink red.

"Argyle?"

 _"I'm working on it,"_ reported the engineer. " _We've got no warp drive, our impulse driver coil is offline, and our maneuverability is shot."_

"That means we're screwed!"

" _Yeah, but aside from that, we're in good shape."_

Yar swore angrily, and pushed herself out of the chair. She squinted through the smoke, believing she could see the shape of the Klingon lying on the deck. Turning in the other direction, she moved across the bridge, where she found Troi lying crumpled on the deck. She approached cautiously, appropriately suspicious. She pulled her disruptor before kneeling down beside the still form. She reached out to feel for a pulse, found one, and was immediately unsure how she felt about that. She examined Troi's face carefully, and found her to have what appeared to be a serious head wound.

She got up, and was rushing back toward her command chair, when she saw a flurry of motion out of the corner of her eye. Too late to evade the attack, she heard a sickening crack as a dull weight hit the side of her head. Falling to the deck, she grabbed for her disruptor, and fired upward at the advancing Klingon. He fell, slumped over the helm, and she gave him a swift kick, just for good measure, even though he had been stunned unconscious. Her scalp burned and blood flowed down over her forehead. His hands were still restrained, but he had swung his bound fists into her head. Yes, she'd been lucky, but didn't feel so. She staggered and fell into the captain's chair.

"Argyle!"

 _"Aye sir?"_

"If you can't do anything else, at least fix my damn view screen up here."

 _"On it."_

Within seconds, the view on the screen cleared of interference and she could see the cube and the Lesser Enterprise well enough. She could now see a green tractor beam holding the Lesser Enterprise in place. "They're not going anywhere...but I can't retrieve the Captain's double with all that Borg attention," she said aloud, not caring that she was currently the only conscious person on the battle bridge.

"Propulsion status, Argyle?"

 _"...not quite there."_

"Forget about warp drive. All I need is a quarter impulse." She wiped at her bleeding forehead as an idea occurred to her. "Computer...scan for Captain Picard."

 _Captain Picard is currently on board the saucer section two parsecs from our current location._

 _He's alive!_ She broke into a relieved smile. "Scan again. I'm looking for another Captain Picard."

 _There is only one Captain Picard-_

"No, you're wrong, just run the damn scan!"

 _Captain Picard is located on an unidentified ship seven thousand twenty-three meters from our position._

Yar attempted to clap her hands together in triumph, but she was painfully reminded that her dislocated left arm was non-functional. _That means he's not on the Lesser Enterprise. Of course, he would be trying to rescue the Lesser captives._ She laughed, propelled by a rush of adrenaline. "Computer, set a course for the coordinates you just calculated and wait for my command." Her eyes widened as she saw the green tractor beam between the Borg ship and the Lesser Enterprise suddenly snap off.

Argyle came back on the link a second later. _"Driver is back on. I've got 1/2 impulse, even better than you wanted-"_

"Shut up! Computer one quarter impulse power."

* * *

 _ **The IMS Contagion**_

"On course to intercept the star drive section in three minutes."

"Good,"Crusher said getting up from her chair. "Geordi, what's the status of the saucer?"

" _I've fixed her up as well as can be expected, Admiral. All propulsion systems are back strength is maxing out at seventy percent though."_

"Excellent. I want you to remain over there until further notice."

 _"Understood...but the crew is getting restless over here. They want to know Picard's status."_

"Let them wonder," she snapped. "Geordi, I need to know how quickly we can get in and get the Klingon, and then get out."

There was a pause. " _Well...that would be much easier to assess if I was on board with you-"_

"But you're not...now I need your assessment, Commander."

 _"The problem is we don't know what instructions Picard has given his crew on the star drive. If they're in a position to fight, my guess is they will. And even if they don't want a battle, their shields will need to be down in order for safe transport."_

"Leave that to me," said Beverly, pacing around the bridge. Eventually she stopped and crossed her arms, shutting her eyes tightly. _Think Beverly..._ w _e're heading into a life or death situation with the Borg. Is the Klingon even worth all this? Yes! My treachery has been exposed. If I don't have Worf and his ships then I don't have anything, and I might as well turn myself over to the Borg._

She opened her eyes, feeling someone's gaze on her back. She turned around to find Lieutenant Barclay staring sheepishly at her. "Well? What is it, Broccoli?"

"Admiral, may-may I speak fr-frankly?"

 _"_ Perhaps a better question is _can_ you speak at all," she said caustically. "Go ahead," she prompted him.

"C-captain, P-P-P-"

" _Picard?"_

Barclay nodded quickly. "Yes, Admiral." He twisted his hands in front of him anxiously. "Let's s-say that the Borg are l-looking for him..."

Beverly stepped gracefully up the steps to her subordinate, and leaned dangerously over him at his communications post. "Barclay...let's say that was true. What the hell would you know about that?"

Barclay shrugged his shoulders, and he squinted up at her. "J-Just a hypoth-hypothetical, Admiral. But if they w-were, I would recommend putting him somewhere safe...somewhere the B-B-B-where _they_ can't locate him, Admiral. A cloaking force field w-would work well."

Beverly hit her communicator. "Security, what is the status of my prisoner?"

The reply sounded puzzled. _"Which one, Admiral?"_

"Picard. I want him transferred to a secluded location."

There was a muffled interaction between the guard and someone else in the background. Beverly sighed.

"Is that him?"

 _"Yes."_

"What did he just tell you?"

" _Uh...he said he would gladly accept a transfer to the Admiral's quarters,"_ the guard answered reluctantly.

"Put him in the agony booth..."

" _For how long?"_ The guard sounded mildly amused.

"Until I tell you to let him out. And surround the chamber with a cloaking shield."

* * *

 _ **USS Enterprise**_

So far, the Borg had not attacked, although the ship remained held by a tractor beam. Philippa Louvois stood still in front of the captain's chair, but she could feel her legs trembling. Still, her voice remained steady. "Recommendations?"

"They believe that we are the Enterprise from this universe," said Worf. "If they are operating on a mistaken assumption, we could capitalize on their confusion."

"Captain, we're being scanned," reported McKnight.

"Open a channel," ordered Louvois.

"Hailing frequencies open."

"Attention Borg ship...I am Phillipa Louvois, Captain of the USS Enterprise."

 _"Terrans are deceitful. Captain Jean-Luc Picard is the commanding officer of your ship. Picard must surrender."_

"I don't know who you're talking about. Never heard of Picard before. We're just passing through and will be on our way as soon as we have reunited with our ships."

 _"All Terrans will be assimilated."_

"That may be so, but you've got the wrong ship."

There was a strange silence, and the bridge lights returned to full power.

"Sir!"

Louvois spun around to face Worf, who had just shouted out in surprise. "The tractor beam has released," she said. "And we are no long being scanned. But hold on..." His face showed immense concentration. "There is a new ship in the area...it looks like the star drive."

"I don't have time to even guess what they want." Captain Louvois pointed at the main viewer which still showed the looming Borg ship, and the cluster of five tiny Starfleet ships. "Set a course for the _Phoenix_. Let's get those away teams back!"


	42. Chapter 42

**Chapter 41**

* * *

 _ **USS Phoenix**_

"Picard to Enterprise...Picard to Riker..." Picard glanced at Troi. "Still nothing. Whatever the Borg are doing now is disrupting our communications frequencies." He hesitated, knowing he would only receive the same result, but tapped his communicator again. "Picard to Crusher," he said tightly, feeling as though he had been holding his breath for too long. This time, the silence seemed deafening. His outrage at finding the Borg even here in the mirror universe was contained only because there was nothing he could do at the moment, except wait. He walked to a terminal, and tried typing in a security override. The terminal didn't even blink, just kept on working to whatever single minded aim the Borg wanted it to.

"I don't suppose you have any idea what they might want with these ships," said Picard to Troi, turning away from a futile task.

"I sense the typical intent to co-opt the technology and people on these ships...assimilation, of course. But there is something else. The Borg have specific plans, although how these poor people factor in, I don't know."

Picard turned his gaze to the assimilated crew again. They were working diligently, and it was not hard to recall how he had felt under similar circumstances. He _had_ felt, he had been conscious, at least part of him had been.

Suddenly a bright green beam penetrated the top of the bridge, and began to scan slowly. Picard grabbed Troi's arm and took two steps closer to the Borg crew members before stopping abruptly. "Don't move. It's harmless," he said. "With any luck, they won't tell us apart from the Phoenix's crew."

As the beam approached he felt a visceral sense of fear, and without knowing it he tightened his grip on Deanna's arm, but instead of pulling away, she grasped his other hand just as tightly. The beam moved harmlessly over her, and stopped on him, just hovering there. Slowly the beam scanned the length of his body and came back up to focus on his eyes. A strange chill drifted through him and he knew before they even spoke the words.

 _"Locutus of Borg...your presence here is unexpected._ "

He opened his mouth but was unable to reply. And then in the next instant he felt any reply at all would be unwise, so he clamped his mouth shut, and just shifted his gaze silently to Troi who looked terrified. _The Borg have traversed the universes, just as we have._ _But for what purpose?_

 _"Locutus of Borg, you must leave this sector at once. Your presence here is unwarranted._ "

"I'm not leaving without these officers," he declared suddenly. "I demand that you set them free."

 _"Your presence here is unwarranted."_

"On the contrary, my presence here is completely appropriate, it is yours that is unwarranted. You will release all five of these Starfleet ships at once."

"Locutus and his _officers will be free to return to the USS Enterprise 1701-D. However any attempt at deception or interference with Borg drones will result in the destruction of your vessel."_

The beam disappeared in the next instant.

Before he could say another word, he felt a sudden swirling disorientation and saw Troi disappear before his eyes.

* * *

Picard and Troi, stil holding hands reappeared on the bridge of the Enterprise. He let go of Troi and spun around, seeing the rest of the away teams had also been returned by the Borg subspace transporter. Captain Louvois shouted out something unintelligibly ecstatic.

"Sir?" Riker along with everyone else was back, but completely stunned. Jean-Luc saw Beverly move out of the crowd of officers, looking for him, and he nodded at her breathlessly before shouting out an order.

"LaForge, I want all lifeforms on our stolen ships beamed aboard _now_."

"Captain," interjected Worf. "We are currently under attack from what appears to be the star drive section of the mirror Enterprise. If we drop our shields again-"

"Drop the shields. LaForge, beam all lifeforms into the main cargo bay."

 _"Trying sir...sir I don't know who we have, but looks like we were only able to retrieve 130 people, Captain."_

There was a collective murmur around the bridge, which may have been one of relief, but he couldn't tell.

"Raise shields," he said calmly. "Mr. LaForge, evacuate all other personnel from the cargo bay and flood the space with tetryons. And I want a subspace holding cell placed around those officers."

 _"But sir-"_

"Just do it, Geordi!" he shouted.

 _"Aye sir."_

* * *

 ** _ISS Enterprise: Star Drive_**

 _Unidentified star ship is within weapons range,_ reported the computer.

Yar leaned forward intently watching the scene on the viewer. "They're changing their course...maybe Picard is back on board?"

 _Sensors show that Captain Picard is now on board the unidentified starship,_ said the computer.

"In pursuit. Firing phasers," Yar said, clenching her jaw.

 _Their shields are holding at 83%._

"Set course 237.1"

 _Pursuing the requested course will result in a collision with the unidentified ship,_ warned the computer.

"Right...but not a catastrophic collision because we've both got our shields up and it's just enough to knock them off course...right?"

 _Your question cannot be answered with any degree of certainty. At this course and rate of speed the star drive will strike the enemy ship on the starboard side of its saucer section. Loss of life is probable._

"It's been done before, it's been done before," Yar whispered to herself desperately. She closed her eyes, and in the next terrifying moment there was groaning, cracking sound underneath and Yar was thrown violently from her seat.

When she woke up, the bridge was filled with smoke. Grabbing a tube of fire suppressant from the wall she staggered forward, putting out a fire at ops, before tossing the empty tube away. She smiled through her pain seeing that the Lesser Enterprise no longer had any forward motion, and appeared to float listlessly in space in front of her. The starboard hull of the enemy ship was glowing red.

"Shield status?"

 _Shields are at 2%._

 _"Chief Argyle to bridge! What did you just do? What did you do? Are you trying to kill us all?"_

"Hail them," Yar ordered, ignoring the screaming engineer. "Demand their immediate surrender in the name of the Terran Empire."

* * *

 ** _USS Enterprise_**

 _Attention. Decompression warning decks 11 thru 14._

"Status!"

Data had dropped his away team gear and slid into his usual seat at ops. "We have sustained a collision with the attacking ship, Captain. Severe hull damage to starboard decks 2 thru 15. Plasma fires are reported on decks six and seven."

 _Warning._

"Send emergency personnel to those areas immediately," Picard ordered. He glanced behind him at Beverly who was staring at him. Jeanette was in their quarters on deck 10. The words were slow to emerge from his lips as he watched the intensity of emotion on her face. "Dr. Crusher please coordinate your medical teams as necessary to retrieve survivors."

She merely nodded grimly at him before exiting into the turbo lift.

Riker slapped a communications panel. "Attention crew, this is Commander Riker...decks 2 through 15 in areas A thru C are to begin immediate evacuations. Emergency crews will direct you to safety."

Riker walked over to Picard and lowered his voice. "Captain, the Borg aren't going to like what we just did. Recommend we get the hell out of here."

"Picard to LaForge. We need warp power...do we have it?"

 _"Captain, we're not going anywhere. Our starboard nacelle was clipped by that maniac. We're lucky our shields were nearly at full capacity."_

"How long to fix it?"

 _"I'm working on it now, Captain, but we'll need at least an hour to get it safely back on line."_

"We don't _have_ an hour, Mr. LaForge."

"Captain," Worf interjected. "We are being hailed." He looked up sharply. "They are demanding our immediate surrender in the name of the Terran Empire."

Picard ran his hand over his head. "On screen."

The individual on screen was surrounded by smoke, and was severely injured. And yet, her familiar features had a look of unwavering determination. _"This is Lieutenant Yar of the ISS Enterprise. You have illegally entered Terran space. I demand your immediate surrender."_

"Tasha?" Worf blurted out.

The woman's eyes flicked toward the sound of his voice, and her jaw dropped slightly as her gaze locked on Worf at tactical. She turned awkwardly to look behind her into the smoke as though looking for someone. When she turned back around, she had regained her composure somewhat, although she still looked confused.

Picard tried to ignore his instinct to rejoice at the sight of his long-dead security chief, but reminded himself that this was not _his_ Yar. "You are severely wounded, as is your ship, Lieutenant, due to your unprovoked attack...as such you are in no position whatsoever to demand our surrender."

"Fine. You're bringing it on yourself", she said, before limping out of the viewer frame for a few seconds. She stepped back into view with a confident smile. "According to my sensors it looks like you're not going anywhere. I demand a meeting with you, Captain Picard."

"This is foolish, I have no intention on meeting with you. On what grounds have you attacked my ship-"

" _I am a Terran!_ " she suddenly shouted. _"And you are my enemy. I will give you 60 seconds to beam over to my bridge, or I will initiate a self-destruct sequence that will blow both our ships to nothingness. And if we're lucky we can put a small dent the Borg cube that is sitting next to us."_

"Ah...so we have a common enemy in the Borg, it seems," reasoned Picard, holding up his hands as if in an effort to calm her down. "Perhaps we can work together-"

The young woman didn't blink as she interrupted him. " _The time is ticking...sir._ " Suddenly she staggered as her ship seemed to be jostled back and forth. Cursing, she cut the channel and the screen went black.

"Captain, a large vessel just came out of warp and is firing on the Terran ship," Worf announced.

They all watched as the already battered star drive was fired upon by an immense ship, far larger than the Enterprise. Bizarrely, a saucer section, presumably the other half of Yar's ship, was tethered to it by a thin tractor beam.

"LaForge, if we have warp power, now would be a good time!" Riker shouted.

 _"Negative sir, but we've got partial impulse."_

"Get us out of here Ensign McKnight."

"Aye, sir."

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! -PP**


	43. Chapter 43

**Chapter 42**

* * *

 _ **The IMS Contagion**_

"The Star Drive's shields are depleted, Admiral, another few hits and they will be destroyed," the tactical officer reported.

 _That also means we can beam over anyone we like._ Admiral Beverly Crusher stood watching the main viewer with interest. "Well, well, well...will you look at that? Jean-Luc was right about his ships...and as usual he was wrong about almost everything else. She stood there a moment longer before walking over to sit down comfortably in her command chair. "Open a channel, let's get this over with before the Borg decide to take notice."

The view screen switched to the charred interior of the battle bridge, occupied by a single officer, leaning on the command chair.

"You look as though you've had an eventful day, Lieutenant," Crusher said, leaning forward casually. "As a doctor, I have to recommend you seek immediate medical care. As an Admiral I am happy to accept your unconditional surrender. We have excellent medical facilities on board my ship."

Yar struggled to stand up straight. "Is the captain alive?"

Crusher smiled. "If you're smart enough to survive...which you just might be, you will find out soon enough, Yar. Now where is the Klingon?"

"I need to know about the captain first," Yar said stubbornly, gripping her limp left arm.

"Foolish girl..." Crusher gestured for Barclay to cut the channel.

"Computer how many life signs on board the star drive right now?"

 _Thirty-five._

"Beam them all over. Fill the detention area to capacity for all I care. Then I want the Klingon brought to my ready room."

She got to her feet and headed for her office, when the lights dimmed.

"We're being scanned, Admiral. It's the Borg."

"Warp 8, get us out of here."

The deck shuddered underneath her feet, as the ships engines seemed to strain with effort.

"Engines are offline. They have us in their tractor beam, we're being pulled closer to the cube!"

"Fire everything we have at the Borg," shouted the admiral.

"Weapons inoperative. We're being scanned."

 _IMS Contagion, you have disobeyed the Emperor's directives and will be corrected. We are aware that you have Captain Jean-Luc Picard on board your vessel. Your attempts to shield his location will fail._

 _"_ Admiral we're being boarded."

"Get LaForge over here, now," she snapped.

"Transporters are down."

"Damn it," she whispered.

 _"Security here, we've got Borg soldiers down here in the detention area."_

"Kill them!"

* * *

 _ **USS Enterprise**_

 _"_ Captain, the star drive was just destroyed by a Borg cutting beam. The vessel which attacked it moments ago now appears to be under control of a Borg beam."

"Keep us moving away from the fray," Picard ordered.

"Vessel de-cloaking fifteen thousand meters from our current position, Captain," reported Data. They all watched with rapt attention as a ship appearing to be the _USS Stargazer_ loomed into view, before firing on the tethered saucer section. The Terran saucer spun away freed, and the Stargazer pursued it, moving in closely.

The Borg cube began firing on the Stargazer, which inexplicably emitted from its deflector dish, a very bright burst of light toward the Borg cube.

The Enterprise crew watched in stunned silence as the light entered the Borg Cube. After a few seconds, the hull of the cube bulged outward into an almost circular shape before an intense energy wave burst from the cube, heading outward at an insane velocity.

"We cant outrun that," Riker whispered.

The red alert began to blare again. _Perimeter alert._

"Incoming, brace for impact!"

* * *

 **To Be Continued...**


	44. Chapter 44

**Chapter 43**

* * *

 **ISS Stargazer (Re-fit)**

"Propulsion is working fine," reported Pots. "We're good."

"We are not _good_! You have to fix the inertial stabilizers! We're just freewheeling through the sector," Wesley Crusher screamed from over the Captain's chair. To be exact, he was floating in mid-air, directly over the command center of the Stargazer bridge, and periodically he had to stop his head from slamming into the ceiling, as the ship turned wildly over and over. "At this rate, we're probably gonna fly into a moon or something."

"Oh really, kid you make me laugh," Pots said from his position floating over one of the science stations. "I can tell you've been spoiled living on fancy star ships your whole life. Don't worry, Wessy, I know what I'm doing."

"It's _Wesley_!" Wesley shouted back.

"Just straighten us out, Pots," Jack shouted, tumbling slowly end over end. "And while you're at it, fix the gravity before I puke all over my bridge."

"Hold on guys," Jack's mechanical engineer from the Lesser Universe reassured them. "We're lucky we still got power at all...those other ships didn't do so well, I think."

"Good, that's what I want to hear," Jack gloated. "Suck on that, Picard."

"Which one?" asked Pots. "Looks like you got two Picards to deal with now...assuming they ain't dead."

"Both of them! _Both_ Picards."

 _Artificial gravity restored_ , the computer calmly reported.

Wesley fell with a yelp onto the deck below.

There was a strange metallic sound, and they were all suddenly captivated by a large glob of energy materializing on the bridge.

"Ha, ha!" Jack clapped his hands with glee, and slapped Pots on the back.

Wesley struggled to his feet, just realizing what had happened. They had flown as close to the Enterprise saucer section as possible, once they had realized that LaForge was on board. But then everything had happened so quickly, and their own weapon meant to be used against the Borg had blasted the Stargazer, and presumably every other ship in the vicinity with a powerful shock wave. "Is that...did you..."

"Yes!" Jack shouted.

"Wow," he said looking at Jack with disbelief. "You really got him."

"It's Pots' little experiment in creating his own transporter from scratch."

"Goes through shields," said Pots with a modest shrug. "Work in progress..."

"That's the _slowes_ t transporter I've ever seen," Wesley said with respectful admiration, staring at the form just beginning to take shape.

Jack put a fatherly hand on Wesley's shoulder and grinned. "Hurts more that way."

As if on cue, the materializing figure let out a scream.

"How very Terran of you, dad. Yeah...that's him alright."

As soon as LaForge had fully materialized, he threw up on the deck. Then, looking around him with his palm, he began to curse. "Argh...goddammit, if she wanted to break up with me, she could have just had me killed...where the hell did she send me?" Slowly he calmed down and focused, now seeing that he was not alone. "Oh shit," he said quietly.

"Yeah, that's about right," Jack said, sitting down in the command chair. "You're on the _ISS Stargazer_ , commanded by me, Jack Crusher. Welcome."

 _Wow, could it be, daddy's back from the dead?_ LaForge caught sight of Wesley and Pots and made a disgusted face. "You kidnapped me?"

"What happened to our deal, Geordi?" Wesley demanded. "You were going to hand me over the data on Data, but then poof...you disappeared and went silent on me."

"The deal was that I would capture and record the data for you. That was it."

"Well? Do you have it or not?" Jack leaned forward. "My son tells me you can see with your fingertips. No reason why I can't just cut those off and get my info that way."

LaForge began to laugh. "Are you kidding? You honestly think that you can just remove the parts of me that are cybernetic and retrieve what you want?" He shook his head. "Doesn't work that way, Crusher. You're going to need my cooperation for this...whatever it is you're planning."

* * *

 _ **USS Enterprise Deck 16**_

M lifted his head from the disturbingly warm floor. The floor had been cold before all hell had broken loose. Now there was a steady reverberation in the deck and he could smell smoke, and hear screams of people running frantically through the corridors. The ship had been through a lot since he'd come aboard, but this was different. He'd fallen and struck his head, knocked himself out for a time. But it couldn't have been long. He ignored the pounding in his head, noting with exhilaration that the guard was laying on the deck outside of his cell, passed out. What luck!

The red alert had ceased, but now there were blue lights and a high pitched squealing sound blared through the corridors muting some of the shouts.

 _Warning...warning...starboard hull breach on decks 10 through 17 is imminent._

He jumped, as an explosion sounded somewhere outside of the detention area, and suddenly the only thing he could see were the blue emergency lights.

 _Warning,_ the computer repeatedly droned in a distorted voice. _Power...drain..._

There was a second explosion, and the force field snapped off. Unable to believe his second stroke of good luck, he limped as quickly as he could out of the cell. Kneeling down he saw that the guard was beginning to wake. Not wasting any time, he struck the guard in the face as hard as he could, thoroughly discouraging the officer from waking up again. He grabbed the fallen man's phaser and communicator, dropping the small pin into his pocket. When he ran out into the corridor, no one even noticed him, it was so chaotic and difficult to see through the smoke and the lighting made everyone look the same. There were flames both orange and green running through the walls. The control panels were all black, and it looked like power was down.

He rushed through a crowd, toward a turbo lift, and then realized that none of the lifts were working. Turning around, he could see that most people were running away in the opposite direction. He had to get to the shuttle bay. Wesley had come through for him-at least partially. Jack had convinced him to give him the override code to the outer doors of the main shuttle bay. Why? Well, he'd been able to convince the boy that the mirror Picard wanted him dead, and maybe just maybe, the Enterprise crew would abandon him if things got really bleak. And if he needed an escape, Wesley had ensured that would happen. Despite his fear of the fire as he drew closer to the outer layers of the ship, he felt ecstatic, even as the people fled by him. He saw a utility ladder ahead of him. He could take that ladder down to the shuttle bay and be free. Of course there were one or two other steps to complete before he could carry out his plans. But then he stopped in his tracks, as a familiar face appeared running toward him.

"Dad!"

M halted, gripping the phaser tightly in his fist. "Wes...security let me go," he lied easily. "Guess they saw the error in their ways..."

The kid's clothes were covered in soot, and his breathing was labored. "Good," said Wes. "So you won't need the code I gave you anymore," he breathed, clearly relieved. "Not if the captain's going to protect you from...from the other Captain Picard."

M smiled, as an idea occurred to him. He lifted the phaser and trained it on the teen and gestured down the hall. "I wish it were that simple, Wes."

"What are you doing? Dad?"

M shook his head. "You needed to find out soon enough, Wes. I'm not your dad after all."

"What?"

"You heard me."

Wesley's eyes clouded with tears, but his jaw worked angrily. "I trusted you...I believed you."

"I know and you really shouldn't have...but then you are just a kid after all."

"Who are you?"

M pointed the weapon directly at the teenager. "Get moving. Head for that ladder."

* * *

 **Deck 10**

Riker stood with Data, who was studying a tricorder intently, standing next to Jeanette's crib. Engineering officers milled around nearby, waving tricorders in the air. It would have looked comical, if the overall circumstances hadn't been so grim. Having just been called to the scene, Picard stood inside the living room of Beverly's quarters watching this spectacle, when Beverly approached, holding Jeanette in her arms. Her uniform was covered in debris, but she look very relieved, if exhausted. She took his hand with her free one, unconcerned at the moment about appearances.

The Captain reached out to touch the baby's head lightly. "She looks perfectly fine," he said, his voice wavering slightly with emotion. "Just fine."

She broke into a smile and nodded, her eyes tearing up as she continued to watch him silently. She pulled her hand away from his to wipe her eyes, before holding the baby tighter. "We've sustained very heavy casualties, Jean-Luc. The crew's been through so much."

"The crew is strong," he said. "We've seen worse."

"Have we? We're not out of it yet," she said a little more harshly than she had intended.

"I intend to do my best to return us to our own universe as soon as we are able," he said.

"I know," she admitted. She glanced over his shoulder and saw Riker was beckoning them both over.

As they approached Riker and Data, Picard noted that they both had the same look of fixed surprise on their faces. "What is it?" he demanded.

"First of all, Captain, the fires have been contained, which is good news. And miraculously we didn't lose one person during that attack, although injuries were high."

"The Borg ship?"

"The Borg ship has completely dropped from the sensors, Captain," said Data. "Whether it was destroyed is not yet known, as we were carried well out of that sector, by a powerful shock wave of unknown origin."

"Well, let's find out its origin, Data. We can't afford not to."

"Yes, Captain."

"And unfortunately our five ships, have disappeared," said Riker. "Along with the Terran ships..."

Picard took a deep breath in.

"Yes, but as we have learned, the Terrans have sophisticated cloaking technology. They could be nearby."

"Unfortunately, that is correct, Captain," said Data.

"We need to focus on getting the sensors back online," said Riker.

"T'Pel is currently repairing the sensors, Commander," said Data.

"And you're currently here studying my baby's crib," Beverly observed dryly.

Riker and Data glanced at each other again.

"Yes, about the baby," began Riker awkwardly.

Picard and Crusher exchanged confused glances. "Yes?"

"You asked us to determine why the hull breach didn't ultimately occur after the attack from the Terran star drive."

"The ship's computer registered an anomaly in your quarters," Riker said to Beverly. "It was some kind of...time distortion. The source was right here," said Riker, placing his hand on the crib.

"What?" Beverly and Picard said at once.

"Put simply, Captain, time either stopped or was reversed in the areas of the ship that would have been surely destroyed by the damaged hull, had the anomaly not intervened." All eyes turned to the baby, who at that moment, broke into a joyous smile, and let out a gurgle.

* * *

 **Outside the Main Shuttle Bay a few minutes later...**

Wesley halted outside of the shuttle bay. He had been holding his arms up bent at the elbows, and many times had considered trying to disarm his assailant, but he had hesitated. How could he have been so stupid as to trust this man who everyone else had come to see as a fraud? "What is it you want? Whatever it is, you don't have to do this," he said.  
M laughed. "You think I'm taking you with me? Kid, you have no idea." He pulled out the guard's communicator from his pocket and placed it on his shirt. He poked Wesley in the back with the phaser. "Turn around, Wes...I believe in people learning from their mistakes. Watch and learn."

M hit the communicator. "Paging Jean-Luc Picard..."

There was a long silence. " _Picard here. Who is this?"_

"Three guesses. I've got your girlfriend's kid down here, and we're about to go on a little adventure. Or maybe not. Maybe things could get much worse for this young man. That is, if you don't come down here to the main shuttle bay right now. I'd like to have a little chat with you."

 _"Let Wesley go, and then we can talk-"  
_

"Or what? You'll stop me? I don't think so...too late for that Captain."

 _"What do you want from us?"_

"Just come alone. If you show up with an entourage, I promise you the kid will pay."

* * *

 **Hey, thanks for reading and reviewing. Hope you enjoy! -PP**


	45. Chapter 45

**Chapter 44**

* * *

 _ **The IMS Contagion**_

His nerves were on fire. That was the whole point of the Booth, so he knew what to expect. However, knowing what to expect did not mean anything could prepare you for a marathon session in the Agony Booth. What had happened? He'd made some joke about needing a transfer to Beverly's quarters, and it hadn't been well-received, and this had been the result. He should have known she would react in that way. Of course he had reacted the same to similar affronts by lower ranking officers. It was the right of any Terran commanding officer to do so.

But his humiliation was real, whether she had intended him to feel it or not. He blinked away the film that always was present over one's eyes following a torture session in the Booth. He was on his hands and knees. Why? He should have been suspended there, even when the process had been terminated. It had been years since he had been in this situation. _Jack._ A wave of hatred and humiliation coursed through him. He steadied his breathing and forgot about the betrayal, just as easily as he had forgotten about Jack.

Picard was far more used to sending others to be tortured and humiliated, so much so that he had almost forgotten the sensations. Almost. Still, something was amiss. He pushed himself into a crouching position and blinked again, and could see that the energy barrier that should have been present was not there. The yellow alert blinked steadily bathing everything in the detention area in gold. Something very serious had just happened.

A guard stood outside just steps from him, facing away. He was chattering into a wall panel, clearly agitated.

"Are we still cloaked? Are they going to hit us again?"

 _"I don't know... I just woke up myself, hit my head. Power's still down over most of the ship...whatever it was that hit us, it knocked out propulsion too."_

"What's she going to do, just let us sit here dead in the water while they come around again?"

A battle! And Beverly had brought them out of it alive. He experienced a feeling of pride mixed with envy and regret that he had missed it all. Who had it been? Was it the other Picard? Surely he was destined to meet his Lesser self again and destroy him in battle. Had Beverly stolen his chance away? But no... LaForge had said the Borg were in this sector. Picard, invigorated by the possibility that his ex-wife had just defeated a Borg cube, stood up slowly, and less painfully now that the nerve endings were calming down under his skin. He braced himself against the wall, trying to form his fragmented thoughts into a plan. There always had to be a plan.

 _"I don't know, but who ever thought of promoting a doctor to a full-on Admiral with a star ship? She's the reason we're in this position now."_

"She knows what she's doing. Remember, she's killed more than once to get to her position. Like any good Terran. Even Picard didn't see it coming."

The sound of this unworthy slime speaking his name solidified his plan. Pushing himself off of the wall behind him, he ran at the guard as fast as he could. Catching the man around the neck with his arm, he stepped in toward the guard, and the man spun off of his feet. Picard heard the snap of the man's neck, and dropped him to the floor. Bending down, he grabbed the small agonizer from the guard's belt, along with his disruptor, and ran out into the corridor searching for an ally.

* * *

The corridor was strewn with bodies, most of whom appeared unconscious or dead. Racing down the hall, he felt the temperature drop drastically and saw to his shock an immense hole where the bulkhead had been. He could now see directly out into space, with only an emergency force field in place. Debris floated outside of the ship, but from here he should have been able to see the port nacelle. That he could not see it, meant that they were still cloaked. _If she is placing so much importance on maintaining the cloak, she must still believe the ship is still in danger._

Feeling the chill of space, he rushed on, keeping to the side of the corridor. At one intersection he heard a voice and halted spinning around when he heard it again. "Sir!"

He approached the auxiliary access tunnel with caution, his weapon drawn. A battered but familiar face peeked out of the hatch and waved him over. "Natasha!"

He crawled into the narrow tunnel, grabbing his subordinate into a quick embrace. "What did you do with my ship, Yar?" He growled even before letting her go.

Yar's voice caught in her throat. "I'm sorry, Captain. I did what I could to try and capture the Lesser Picard, but the Admiral beamed us all over-"

"She has Worf now?"

"Yes sir...Troi was hurt real bad."

Picard gripped her arm tightly. "How bad?"

"She's in a coma as far as I know. They took her to sickbay before I got away."

He couldn't help but smile. "Beverly will no doubt want to see to Deanna's health personally. And Riker? Is that traitorous fool alive?"

She shrugged. "Sorry sir, I don't know what happened to the saucer. And the Borg...they cut up the star drive into pieces and took most of it away."

"My ship!" he suddenly cried out furiously. He brought his palms up to his eyes, and Yar knew better than to say a word more. Gradually his hands clenched into fists, and he dropped them into his lap. He turned to Yar, who was about to apologize again, when he put a finger to her lips. "Tell me what happened to the Borg ship."

"I-I don't know, Captain. All I know is there was this _blinding_ light, and then we just were...thrown. That's the best way that I can explain it. And we took a hell of a lot of damage."

"And the Lesser ships?"

"There were six, Captain. Five were under Borg control...but the other Enterprise was also there. The weapon could have been generated by them, but I don't think so."

Picard lowered his head, his mind racing. As his plans further solidified, he raised his head slowly to look at her, for the first time noticing her injured left arm. Grabbing her hand, he placed his other hand on her collar bone and pressed upward quickly, relocating her dislocated shoulder. She hardly let out a sound, and the relief in her eyes was immediate. "You are my most loyal soldier, Natasha. And it is very lucky indeed that we found each other again. Together we will re-capture all of the glory that is due to us. But we must be patient. Do you understand?"

She nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Here," he said handing her the disruptor and agonizer. "I'm going to turn myself in."

"Sir!"

"Patience, Natasha. And you are going to keep these items safe, and find me a portable force field generator. Stay out of the Admiral's way as much as possible, and use the disruptor only as needed. Right now, I need you to be invisible, until the time is right. Understand?"

"Perfectly, Captain."

* * *

 **Elsewhere on the bridge...**

"Engineering, how long can we keep the cloaking device and the shields activated at the same time?"

 _"The truth is, Admiral, we're going to lose both in the next half hour. I recommend we take our chances and focus on getting propulsion back on line. To do that we need to focus whatever power we have on those engines."_

"Weapons?"

"No disruptors, and we've got torpedoes, but the navigational system is off, as weapons targeting."

"So we can take a few wild shots with a few torpedoes, but once they fire back, we're dead because we've got no shields and no escape."

Wisely, no one answered her question.

 _Damn._ "Engineering, I want you to try for another ten minutes with the cloaking device and shields engaged to get those engines on line. And if you can't get it done in 10 minutes, you're fired." Crusher crossed her arms and stared fiercely at the main viewer. Just 1000 meters away sat the Lesser _Enterprise,_ and try as she might, she could not will the ship to disappear. As was her custom when thinking, she began to pace back and forth. "If that's the Lesser Enterprise, then there's a Lesser Picard on board. The gods wouldn't have it any other way, I'm sure," she murmured out loud.

She turned to her communications officer. "Barclay, I'm guessing you typically have a lot of time on your hands... Have you ever studied these...Lesser Terrans?"

"Oh they're n-not Terrans, Admiral. They're _Humans_ , from a parallel universe. Also known as the 'Lesser Universe'."

Beverly rolled her eyes up at the ceiling. She'd heard the stories when she was a child. She knew vaguely of the old rusty Ion Stations, still rumoured to be in existence. "Go on..."

"They resemble us physically, but c-culturally they are quite distinct. They formed the United Federation of Planets hundreds of years ago to partner with the Vulcans-

"Partner? With _Vulcans_? You must be joking."

"N-No, Admiral, you h-hate my jokes. The United Federation of Planets formed in 2161, was originally an alliance between the Humans of Earth, the Vulcans, the Andorians and Tellarites focused primarily on scientific exploration and d-diplomacy."

"According to our history, we Terrans hunted the Tellarites to extinction. In fact, our founders thought they were very tasty."

"Yes, b-but that's Terran history, not H-Human history, Admiral."

"So, you're saying that just because I see the Enterprise floating outside, doesn't mean there is also a Jean-Luc Picard scheming over on its bridge?"

"Well, n-not exactly. There is a Jean-Luc Picard, but he's probably not _sch-scheming_...at least not the way we Terrans do."

"So, are they opposites?" _Imagine a friendly Jean-Luc._ She began to laugh out loud.

"I think it is m-more nuanced than that, but y-yes, their culture is f-far different than ours, less aggressive, more diplomatic, less focused on material gains-"

" _Weak_ , you mean," interrupted Crusher. "They're weak," she repeated with a raised eyebrow. "I can only imagine what Jean-Luc was plotting, that sick bastard. He must have been dying to sit down and have a chat with his twin over a cup of Earl Grey, before stabbing him in the back. He can't be happy to share space with another version of himself, even separated by universes." _Or perhaps he had plans to fool me, somehow._

Beverly moved away from Barclay, and back toward her command chair. She stood next to it and ran her palm over the smooth leather, watching the view screen. Several ideas occurred to her then. "I'd like to meet this other Jean-Luc." She smiled to herself. "Shields down...disengage the cloaking device."

 _"Security to Admiral Crusher. Captain Picard has been recovered and is back in detention."_

Her smile disappeared instantly. "What do you mean he's been recovered?" She clenched the seat tightly. "Seems you neglected to tell me that he escaped in the first place!"

 _"Um...sorry, Admiral. The power was out and he took advantage. Anyway, we were going to question his guard, but seems his neck was broken, so..."_

She sighed. "And did you find Yar yet?"

"No, sir. Any special instructions? Should we throw him back in the Booth?"

"No...leave him where he is. No special treatment this time. When he wants attention this badly, I know better than to give it to him."

* * *

 _ **USS Enterprise**_

"We can't do a site to site transport right now, it's too risky," Riker was trying to say as calmly as possible, but the distress in that room was overwhelming.

"I'm going down there, that's my son!" Beverly had started to rush for the door, but Jean-Luc grabbed her by the hand. She glared at him, but stopped in her tracks. The tension in her arm still pulled away from him, and he knew she would run to Wesley's side if he would just let her go. But he didn't let go.

"You heard him," he said in a quiet voice, putting his mouth next to her ear. "We can't risk anyone else approaching him now." He squeezed her hand. _"Please."_

To his surprise, she reached up and holding his face between her palms, kissed him fiercely on the mouth. When she pulled away, she seemed oblivious to the stares of the crew in her crowded quarters. "Fine," she whispered, taking a step back. "But can't you do anything else from here to protect him?"

"Anything we do will have to be quick enough and work well enough for this man to not harm Wesley," said Riker. "With the power situation as it is, we can't rely on most of our ship-based technology."

Data took a small object from one of his officers, and handed it to Picard. "Here is a portable generator. You can use this to generate a protective field around Wesley, once you locate him." He squeezed the sides of the round object, and two small blinking lights were exposed. "You may wish to throw the generator at a wall or the deck near Wesley, Captain. It is unlikely that his assailant will be able to act quickly enough to defeat your efforts."

"Thank you, Data," he said, taking the item, and retreating to the door.

"Captain," Riker started.

"Your objection is noted, Number One." He locked eyes with Beverly. "I'll see you soon."

* * *

"Now what?" Beverly turned angrily to Riker. "What do we do, just wait?"

Riker nodded to Data. "I want you to communicate with O'Brien. As soon as we get an opportunity for site to site transport make sure he's on it. Get a lock on the Captain, and do your best to narrow down Wesley's location. He's not wearing his communicator-"

"He resigned his post yesterday," Beverly said. "He was so angry with me," she said sounding lost.

Riker put a hand on her shoulder. "Don't think about that right now."

 _"Worf to Commander Riker."_

"Riker here."

" _That anomaly you ordered me to track turned out to be something after all. The large Terran vessel we encountered has just de-cloaked."_

"Raise shields."

 _"Already done, Commander, but our shields are extremely weak."_

"What is their status?"

 _"The Terran Enterprise saucer section is no longer tethered to it, and like us it appears to have been damaged during our collective encounter with the Borg."_

"Worf...we've got a situation with Captain Picard."

 _"Situation?"_

"Just keep things together up there. Keep our current position, and keep us out of trouble."

* * *

Picard was out of breath when he reached the shuttle bay, having climbed down a number of levels before finding a turbo lift that actually worked. After that, travel was much swifter. He found Wesley and his captor waiting outside of the main shuttle bay, with the doors open. The emergency lights flickered, as the ship was still drained of power. Wesley was standing a few steps away from the man, and turned hearing the Captain approach. Picard nodded his head to the side a few times quickly, and miraculously Wesley took his cue, taking two steps sideways. Picard lobbed the small generator, and it landed, sticking to the deck a few feet away from Wesley, and he was immediately encased in a protective shroud of energy.

The man he now felt he was beginning to truly hate, looked on in surprise before beginning to laugh.

Picard clenched his jaw. "What do you want from us?"

M walked forward quickly. "I want payment...and after that, maybe a new life?"

"What kind of payment? What are you talking about?" He shifted his gaze to Wesley.

M trained the weapon on Picard. "You honestly thought I wanted to kidnap the boy, take him away? I don't want him at all, Picard. I want _you_."

Picard took a step forward.

"The closer you come, the more it's going to hurt when I stun you, Captain," M warned.

"Captain," Wesley shouted. "Run! He can't hurt me in here."

"He's right, Picard. But I can hurt you." Jean-Luc ducked and fell to one knee, but was too late, before the beam struck him in the chest.

It wasn't heavy stun, and so he was conscious when he felt his legs being lifted his communicator was removed, and he was dragged roughly across the deck. Vaguely he could hear Wesley screaming, until they faded and he saw the door of the shuttle craft silently closing above him.

* * *

"Worf to Riker." Worf jumped up from the command chair and ran to tactical, practically pushing the relief officer out of the way. His hands flew over the controls furiously, but he shook his head in frustration.

 _"Riker here."_

"Commander a shuttle just departed the main shuttle bay, with two unidentified life forms on board."

 _"Deploy a tractor beam! Get it back here now."_

"Nothing is working, Commander," Worf reported. "And transporters are still down. Captain...the shuttle is headed for the Terran ship."

"Damn it! Hail the Terrans, then. I'm on my way."


	46. Chapter 46

**Chapter 45**

* * *

 _ **Enterprise Shuttle Craft**_ _ **Adriatic 11A**_

His head was killing him, and the pain only increased when he moved. He was sitting upright, but his back was braced against something hard and unforgiving. His hands...he could not move them. Opening his eyes, he could see through a reddish blur that his hands were fastened. He tried to lift them but his hands seemed too heavy for his arms. Gradually he remembered he had been stunned, and as the floor beneath him shifted, he knew that his chances of escaping safely at this moment were quite slim. He shut his eyes again, knowing he needed an effective plan.

He was in a shuttle craft, piloted by an enemy who would do anything to achieve his goal, which Jean-Luc had only recently learned had to do with himself. At least young Wesley had not been visibly harmed when he had arrived at the shuttle bay. _Beverly will be relieved._ He buried the anger that rose in his chest at the thought of her worry at his sudden disappearance. He had to remain calm until the time was right, and then he would need to act and act quickly.

As his vision returned, he strained to raise his chin, and he could see beyond the cockpit, out into space. An immense ship loomed up ahead; the same one that had arrived just in time to thwart the Mirror Tasha Yar's plans to destroy the Enterprise along with the Terran star drive she was commanding. The motives of the commander of this strange star ship were unknown to him, but the fact was he and his crew might have been killed had it not been for its intervention. Of course, for all he knew, this ship was the cause of all his recent troubles, and even for the disappearance of the star ships. And of course, even more bizarre had been the sudden appearance of the Stargazer, his old ship. He blinked, remembering the view on the screen. The blinding light that had been directed at the Borg ship, and which had apparently tossed his ship and this one a few sectors away, had originated with the Stargazer. At least, it had seemed to shoot out of the deflector dish. Strange, but he had never anticipated the existence of his old ship in this universe, but it was clear that he needed to begin to expect the unexpected.

M heard the shift of a boot on the shuttle deck and knew that meant Picard was waking. No doubt the captain would pretend to be asleep for a time until he could attack M. M knew the man's legs would still feel like jelly, and he would be easy to subdue. M gripped the controls, trying to re-familiarize himself with the blocky but maneuverable craft as quickly as possible. He licked his lips nervously, as he flew closer to the giant Terran vessel. If he was right, the Terran star ship had experienced power drains similar to those on the Enterprise, and he would be able to force the shuttle bay doors open. This task would be easier than anticipated, because the Terrans' shields were not just depleted, they were down, according to the shuttle's sensors. He had high hopes. He'd made it this far. All he had to do was locate the Boss, or someone who worked for the Boss, and receive his pay...and maybe a small ship with warp drive, and he could start his new life.

* * *

 _ **The Contagion**_

A moment before Barclay interrupted her thoughts, she was thinking of Geordi. Of course, she was not upset that he had disappeared...not in so many words. But she was...irritated, disappointed perhaps. LaForge was easily the most valuable member of her crew, and she enjoyed his company off duty. In addition, she was beginning to trust him. There was something between them, she admitted to herself, right as Barclay interrupted her musings.

"A-Admiral Crusher, we are being hailed," announced Barclay.

Beverly Crusher smiled contently, and settled back into her command chair. "On screen."

The man who appeared on her screen was not at all who she expected to see. In fact, she would never have expected to see such a person willingly on the bridge of a Terran Starship. But then again, these people were not Terrans. Her smile faded accordingly, and suddenly she had nothing to say. The officer on the screen looked almost as confused as she was.

 _"Greetings...I am Lieutenant Worf, Chief of Security on the USS Enterprise. I must alert you to-"_

Beverly jumped to her feet, infuriated by the insolence of this Klingon and her own momentary hesitation at seeing someone familiar in such an unfamiliar setting. "Are you someone's _pet_?"

 _"I beg your pardon?"_

"I am Admiral Beverly Crusher, commanding the Imperial Medical Ship _Contagion_. And in this universe, Klingons do not command star ships, nor do they beg for anything except a _swift death_. Be aware you are in Terran space now, _Worf_."

The Klingon seemed to be struggling not to bare his teeth at her, which in her limited experience meant she had gotten to him already. _"_

When he spoke next his voice was a study in restraint. _"A criminal has stolen a shuttle craft belonging to our ship with...with a crew member, and he has laid in a course for your vessel. We request that you immediately raise your shields and peacefully deny him entrance."_

"A criminal. Really. What constitutes a criminal in your universe, I can only imagine," she said, sounding bored.

 _"There is very little time. You must comply!"_

Still standing, Beverly put her hand on the back of her chair and glanced down at her command console. All but auxiliary power was currently being used to repair the engines, and she had no intention at the moment of raising her shields. She tapped at the small view screen. There was perimeter warning in effect, but the tiny shuttle heading toward her ship had no weapons to speak of. Even if this fugitive pilot intended to crash into her unprotected hull, the damage would be not be irreperable. She sat back down slowly in her chair, giving Worf a cold stare. "I must comply? I am a Terran, and I don't take orders from a Klingon, whether he's wearing a fancy uniform or not," she snapped.

Worf turned his head away as someone else apparently stepped onto the bridge.

 _Finally, enough small talk...let's meet Picard._

But to her annoyance, Picard did not appear at all. She sighed tiredly.

The man noted her appearance, apparently recognized her, for he looked as shocked as Worf had, but to his credit he recovered more quickly. But when he opened his mouth to speak, Beverly decided she didn't want to hear what he had to say.

"William Riker," she said coolly. "Looking just as dumbfounded as always. I suppose I couldn't be so lucky to avoid meeting another version of you."

The man squinted at her, a gesture which she recognized from him as expressing irritation. He didn't have time for small talk either. "Yes...I am Commander Riker," he confirmed.

She returned a tight smile, which faded abruptly. "I _demand_ to speak to Captain Picard," she said with quiet force. "Or is it that...in _your_ universe, he lets his underlings speak for him?"

Riker glanced at Worf, who still looked surprised.

 _"You can't speak with him,"_ said Riker. " _We need you to raise your shields, so that we can retrieve our missing shuttle,"_ he said.

"No."

Riker lifted his chin; another sign of his irritation. " _I assure you that we have no intention of interfering with you or your ship, Doctor-"_

"Admiral..."

 _"Admiral,"_ he corrected himself with a tense smile. " _But we need that shuttle returned immediately."_

"Why?"

Riker fell silent, and it was apparent to her that he didn't wish to provide her with anything helpful.

"Perhaps I should destroy the shuttle before it reaches our door?" she suggested. "Tactical, get a lock on that enemy shuttle-"

 _"Wait,"_ Riker said quickly. " _Captain Picard is on board that shuttle. He's been taken prisoner by a fugitive, and we need him returned safely."_

Beverly smiled. "Now why didn't you just say so in the first place? Jean-Luc will be safe on board my ship. I'll see to it personally." She gestured to Barclay to end transmission. As the screen blacked out, she stood up, feeling totally in control. "Barclay, you're with me, and I'll need my personal security team as well." As if in an afterthought she snapped her fingers and said, "Oh, and someone fetch me my blue coat."

* * *

"Damn it," Riker shouted, as the connection was abruptly cut.

"Commander," reported Ensign McKnight. "The Terran ship _Contagion_ is opening its main shuttle bay doors."

"Worf, try and get a lock on the shuttle again with a tractor beam!"

"Negative sir," said Worf, who had slipped in to the station at ops. "Still insufficient power."

Riker held his breath as he watched the small shuttle craft cruise easily into the _Contagion's_ docking bay. The doors shut a moment later.

"Damn," Riker whispered again, still staring at the viewer. _She referred to him as Jean-Luc._ _Is familiarity a good sign_?

He turned away, locking eyes with Worf. "We need to be very careful here. We're in uncharted territory...literally and figuratively. A lone Federation star ship in an unfriendly universe..."

"Our own universe is hardly friendly," Worf pointed out.

Riker smiled slightly. "You're right, Worf. But you can't deny we are heavily outnumbered and out-gunned."

"Yes, sir," Worf agreed, getting up from the ops station. "If I may make a suggestion, Commander..."

"Of course, Mr. Worf."

"Admiral Crusher was very surprised to see me. And yet, she recognized me."

"And according to your report, so did the Terran version of Tasha...before she threatened to destroy herself and the Enterprise. I don't know... I feel like we are getting into a much greater mess than we can imagine, Worf. My obligation is to try my best to retrieve what's left of our kidnapped officers, and return them to _our_ universe."

Worf growled. "The Borg have already made that difficult."

"But not impossible. We were able to beam many of the survivors of the five ships on board." _Whether they can be brought back from the brink of assimilation is now the question. For now, I'll have to leave that up to Data to handle. "_ And once the captain is back on board we can proceed with tracking those ships down once more. We're not giving up, Worf. Not now."

"In a situation where we are outnumbered, we must use the element of surprise, wherever possible."

"But for the moment, the Terrans have all the leverage Worf. And most importantly, they have the Captain."

* * *

The shuttle was landing in an enclosed space, and he felt the rumble of the engines as they powered down. He could see that Jack's imposter was seated facing forward in the pilot's seat.

 _It's now or never._ Pushing himself up quietly, he moved as quickly as he could, but his legs were still sluggish from the stun beam, and his boots scuffed noisily on the deck underneath. His captor had turned halfway to face him, but he was still able to strike the man in the side of the head with this cuffed hands. The man ducked and avoided the next clumsy attack, but stumbled onto one knee. Jean-Luc managed to get one arm around the man's neck, and yanked him backwards, squeezing as hard as he could. His opponent tried clawing at his arm, and so he squeezed tighter trying to will him into unconsciousness, but the man suddenly threw them both sideways into the shuttle hatchway. Jean-Luc felt his skull hit the door with such force that he blacked-out for a few seconds. He awoke when the man, who had freed himself turned around shoved his palm up into Jean-Luc's chin. His jaw cracked and he blacked out again. He awoke choking on a mouthful of blood, as he was dragged along a smooth surface, by one leg. He kicked with his other leg into the man's knee, and heard him cry out in pain before he grabbed the stolen phaser and pointed it at Picard's face.

"Enough games," the man breathed. His own ear was bleeding, and there were bruises on his neck where Picard had choked him. "If I have to kill you, I will, but I think the Boss wants you alive for now. He kicked Picard in the leg. "Get up!"

Jean-Luc spat blood onto the deck, and pushed himself onto his hands and knees, before standing up unsteadily. He looked at M as if to say, "well"?

"Hands up behind your head. Get moving." M gestured with the phaser, waving Picard forward. Picard placed his hands behind his head and walked ahead, with his captor behind him angrily urging him on.

"Who is this Boss you're seeking to please?" Jean-Luc could feel his jaw was already swollen, and his words came out as a low murmur.

 _Good question, I have no freaking idea who the Boss is, even after all this time. I'm at the point where I'm about to hand Picard over and I have no idea what I'm getting into._ _Shit, shit, shit._ "Shut up, and keep moving!" he said out loud, shoving the phaser into Picard's back.

The shuttle bay was not well-lit, but he could see several kinds of craft, some of which looked like dangerous looking fighters. Their shuffling boots and ragged breathing sounded impossibly loud, as there was no one else around. With painful effort Jean-Luc raised his gaze and could see mounted all around the bay, small black globes. _We're being watched,_ he thought. _Or rather, the Terrans watch each other. Apparently trust is not so paramount in this universe._

He felt the barrel of the phaser again, and then he heard the swift sound of several pairs of boots heading toward them. Then he felt his captor tense up, when he slowed his steps again. But then they both froze, as the steps grew closer and rounded the bend in an adjoining corridor. There was absolutely no hurry to the approaching steps, and suddenly this worried M immensely. He felt suddenly overwhelmed, and had to silently scream at himself not to freeze up. M stepped from behind Picard, and stood beside him instead, waiting tensely for the Terrans to appear.

Both men heard her voice before she rounded the corner and came into view. Picard recognized Reginald Barclay, or at least his Terran counterpart, walking next to her, along with four more serious looking officers, heavily armed. Somehow, despite what he had learned so far about these Terrans, he had hope at seeing her face. Gradually though, as she approached, his hope ebbed. Her hair was long and flowing, and she was wearing a royal blue coat, that was longer and of darker hue than the one she wore in sickbay so often. He had to convince himself that this beautiful, and imposing woman was not Beverly at all. She was of this universe, and he had already learned that the universe he was now in was dangerous. Still he could not keep himself from whispering her name as she came closer.

Her gaze fell on his first, and she actually smiled at him. But then her gaze shifted to his left, and something akin to a cold wave washed over her features. The shift was so extreme that it sent a legitimate chill through his soul, and he was reminded that the Beverly he knew had indeed been left behind on the Enterprise. The other officers, he now noticed were openly staring at him, as though waiting for him to make a move.

She put a hand beneath her coat and he saw the flash of a weapon as she advanced on them. The security officers had pulled their disruptors and were pointing them at both Picard and the man beside him. Her eyes were cold, when she halted in front of them. "Jack?" The confusion in her voice was evident, but there was also a long-simmering fury, that threatened to blow her perfectly controlled exterior to bits. "Is that really you?"

"Beverly?" the imposter ventured, apparently thrilled at his good luck at finding someone who he knew on board this vessel.

Apparently she was satisfied that Jack's identity had been confirmed, because she smiled, before curling her elegant hand into a fist and striking him directly in the throat with enough force to send him gasping to his knees.

"Jack you were never supposed to survive...you're not wanted here," she warned, looming over the choking man. "Do you understand? We all thought you were gone forever...and soon you're going to wish you had stayed gone."

Jean-Luc surprised himself by breaking into deep laughter. He wasn't one to laugh at another person's pain, but this man had tortured everyone on his ship for long enough that he was thoroughly happy to see him on the floor and at the mercy of someone who at least looked like Beverly.

But now she turned on him. "Excuse me?" She grabbed him underneath his chin and it was all he could do not to to cry out in pain. Her grip loosened somewhat, and she appeared to be studying his face in a somewhat clinical manner. "Broken," she said confidently. "So humans fight back? Perhaps you're not as weak and helpless as your Commander Riker believes."

"You've spoken to my crew?"

She released his face and turned back to her guards. "Take them into custody. Put them in separate cells. I have plans for Jack."

"Wait! I'm not...I'm not really Jack," the man began to argue frantically, as the guards pulled him to his feet, and slapped restraints on his wrists. He was still protesting as they dragged him away.

"I asked you a question," Picard called after her, even as one of the guards grabbed him roughly. He could almost hear the adrenaline pumping in his veins when she turned back around to look at him.

"You're in no position to ask me questions, Captain."

"A tactical error then, perhaps. But I'm not supposed to be here, you understand," he insisted. "This man attacked a member of my crew as a ruse to get me into custody. He's in the service of someone he deems quite powerful. And until a few moments ago, I think he hoped that person might be you."

Beverly watched him closely. "Jack Crusher is the scum of the galaxy, Captain," Crusher said in a matter of fact way. "He picked the wrong ship to board. But I think he knows that now..."

"If Jack is who you want, please let me return to my ship," Picard said with some difficulty as he was unable to open his mouth properly anymore it was so swollen.

"Send a medic to his cell to fix his jaw," she said to Barclay with a knowing smile. "We can't have Riker worrying too much for his safety, can we?"

* * *

 **I'm dedicating my (probable) last chapter of 2016 to all the amazing people who passed from our lives this year. Prince, David Bowie, Gene Wilder, Carrie Fisher, Muhammed Ali, and Elie Wiesel, to name a few who I truly loved and admired. Here is to a healthy, safe, happy 2017, with with less violence and more kindness toward all life forms, especially Mother Earth. Thanks for reading. Best, -PP**


	47. Chapter 47

**Chapter 46**

* * *

 _ **The Contagion-Detention Cell B-1**_

"You'll never guess who I encountered just a few hours ago, Jean-Luc. On this very ship!"

Jean-Luc stood leaning sideways against the wall. His first thought was that Yar had been captured, but as Beverly stood outside of his cell, looking quite dangerous, he could tell that something even more significant had just happened.

"Although I probably _could_ guess...I'll leave it to you to tell me," he said slowly.

"How long have you been plotting to capture your twin, Jean-Luc? What nefarious purpose could it possibly serve to have your identical counterpart in your possession?"

He put his hands on his hips. "I don't know what you're talking about."

She winked at him. "Trying to trick me, weren't you? Wished you had a Lesser doppelganger who could be easily subdued and put in your place when the time was right?"

He flushed. "So I am to be punished for seeking to avoid death by some horrible virus you've concocted?"

She shook her head. "You sad, paranoid man."

He crossed his arms defensively. "And so what? You've got the Lesser Picard in custody now? Is that what you're saying?"

"Yes," she hissed. "That's what I'm saying. And I have a feeling I am going to enjoy his company."

He laughed. "He can't handle you."

"Neither can you."

He held his hand over his heart. "Ouch, Beverly..."

She glared at him triumphantly, and he knew that she clearly wanted this to be a victory. But there was something else she was not telling him. Still he could not help but focus on her petty insults. "I've seen him before via the main viewer," he mentioned with a shrug. "He's not nearly as handsome as I am."

She backed away with a confident smile. "Hold on to that thought, Jean-Luc. It may be all that you have left, all alone and powerless inside this cell."

* * *

 **Some time later...**

"You haven't said a _word_ , Worf. I wonder...am I waiting for an apology from you in vain, or are you just being coy? I had no idea that Klingons were capable of such subtlety." Beverly Crusher reached toward the middle of her desk where she plucked a piece of greenish fruit and began peeling it.

Klingon Captain Worf sat on the other side of the glossy black stone surface, periodically flexing his wrists which were no longer cuffed together. "An apology?" he rumbled indignantly. "For what?"

"For getting captured by Picard," she said with a hard smile. "And for exhausting all my available resources to track you down again. Have you see the holes in my ship?" She shook her head with disgust. "I would have thought you'd be more careful than to get ambushed by him."

"Perhaps had you warned me that he would attack my ship unprovoked, this could have been avoided!"

Beverly cleared her throat. "Jean-Luc is predictable, and yet he's not...trust me, had I known he was on the warpath, I would have warned you," she said simply. Of course she had known Picard had re-entered the Klingon territories in violation of her orders, but what were the odds of him attacking Worf's ship? Beverly had finished peeling her fruit and took a casual bite out of it, still watching Worf closely. "Did you recover your crew?"

"No. My ship was destroyed." He glared at her. "I demand retribution for that mad man's attack on my ship and crew."

She grabbed a second piece of fruit and tossed it at Worf. "Here. Judging by your delirious demands, I'm guessing you haven't eaten in a while, Worf." She waved her index finger at him. "A balanced diet is crucial to maintaining your health...as is getting me those Klingon ships you promised."

"I must make contact with my brother Kurn, to assess the status of these _requested_ ships."

Beverly smiled and tapped the table with her fingertips. "My subspace communications array is at your disposal...and you're free to roam my ship, just be aware the rest of my crew may not be as friendly as I am."

Worf nodded, and bit into the fruit without removing the peel. He spit out the bitter tasting pith, and returned his attention to Admiral Crusher who was staring at him. It was clear she was working through something in her mind. The intensity of her perceptive stare reminded him that she was attractive. For a Terran.

"Ever heard of the Lesser Universe?"

Worf paused his chewing. "We Klingons have heard of such a legend...yes."

"Oh it's no legend," she said leaning in with a smile. "It's _real_. Would you be interested to know that you have an identical counterpart...and that he happens to be about 2000 meters away from us on the Lesser Enterprise?"

"Lies," he growled.

"Worf, there are so many other things I could lie about. Why pick this particular subject?"

"In any case, it is of no concern to me."

She shrugged. "Very well. But information is power, as they say." She studied him with interest. "I'm surprised Picard's lackey Yar was able to keep you under control for so long...it doesn't give me much confidence in your ability to come through for me, Worf."

Worf tightened his fists angrily. "It was the Betazoid. She is very powerful, and my mind was not my own."

" _Was_ very powerful," clarified Crusher. "Troi is presently in a coma in my sickbay, and finally, I should add, at _my_ mercy. When she wakes up, and she will, I think we'll all see some notable changes. Amazing what an unexpected head injury can do to powers of telepathy. Especially when your physician doesn't particularly like you."

Worf's eyes narrowed. "You speak with confidence always, Admiral, when discussing the handling of your Terran enemies. And yet you could not control Picard, and look where his actions have now brought us."

" _Picard_ is currently in my detention cell," she snapped. "Be careful that your insolence does not gain him a new cell mate."

Worf pushed himself up from the table and glared down at her. "You Terrans bicker among yourselves, unaware or unwilling to see the outside forces that will cause your downfall. I may have been half-conscious during the attack, but I saw that Borg cube. The Borg are increasing their presence every quadrant now. _They_ are your true enemy." He pointed at her. "The responsibility lies with _you_ to ensure that your plan to overthrow Emperor Data does not result in increased Borg control over this galaxy."

"Nice speech," she said, not breaking his gaze. She touched a cabinet beneath the table, and a drawer slid outward. "Just fulfill your end of the bargain, Worf. And everything will be just fine," she said finally averting her eyes. Reaching into the drawer she pulled a long thin bottle of dark blue liquid and placed it on the table, followed by two glasses. "Sit down...let's have a drink," she offered easily.

"You realize Captain Picard used the same tactic with me not long ago?"

She didn't look surprised. "I was married to him...I'm familiar with his tactics. Unfortunately for the rest of us, his tactics usually work a little too well, which is why he'll remain in custody until I see fit to release him."

"Why was he so intent on capturing me?"

She looked up at him and sighed. "At the very least, he wanted my attention. But he also may have wanted to know the extent of my plans. You were the bait. And because I chased after him, he could see that you were important. For a Klingon," she added before gesturing at the empty glasses again.

Picard's words to him drifted in Worf's head. _"..._ _you are a fool to consider an alliance with her."_ Worf stood solidly with his arms crossed in front of him. "You said I am free to roam your ship...which means I am free to refuse a drink with you."

"Suit yourself," she said, pouring herself a glass. "If you think I need company to have a drink, you're mistaken." She watched him leave, before allowing her posture to relax. She stared into the glass and unpleasant memories came back to her in a flood. Jack had returned. It was the worst news possible, for it meant that not only had her plan to rid the galaxy of Jack Crusher failed, but it meant that the wounds she had hoped had healed had instead been re-opened upon his return. She'd seen the Stargazer appear...equipped with an impressive weapon. Had Jack been on board that ship? He had commanded it for a time long ago-stolen it from Jean-Luc no less. But it had been left to decay in an asteroid field years ago following his banishment to the Ferengi provinces over a decade ago.

 _I should have allowed Jean-Luc to kill him then, but I just had to have my way._ She downed he drink in one gulp, and slammed the glass down.

 _My little girl would be strong and clever, and beautiful now_. _Instead she is gone._ She clasped her hands over her eyes tightly, trying to shut out the images, but could not. Grasping the glass again, she stood up quickly and threw it into the wall in front of her with a smash. The images remained, but she had kept the tears at bay once more, as she always had. She turned her head slowly to the side and closed her eyes. There was only one thing to do. Reaching into the cabinet again, she took out a long narrow black box. Tucking it under her arm, she walked out of the room swiftly.

* * *

 ** _Prime Enterprise -Main Sick Bay_**

"I can't believe how well she is sitting up," exclaimed Deanna with delight. "I'm hardly holding onto her. And I sense that her mind is incredibly active and curious. She loves being here with you."

Beverly walked back to her friend, who was dutifully watching Jeanette on a nearby bio bed. She looked down with a smile at her baby, having just scanned her for any unseen injuries following the attack, and finding none. It was all a whirlwind, but now Wesley was safe, and resting in their quarters. Her mind flitted to thoughts of Jean-Luc, and then was reminded that this was not a good idea. She tried to block out the immense fear and sorrow she was feeling at having lost him twice in less than six months. She knew Will would do his best to re-capture the captain, but at what cost? The thought that the Terrans would keep him captive, while a cloaked Borg ship could be lurking anywhere was overwhelming. So she had turned her attention to Jeanette, who was for the moment watching her with soft yet perceptive green eyes, leaning for support against Deanna Troi. Data's scans of the area around Jeanette's crib indicated that a temporal disturbance had occurred shortly after the ship's computer had warned of an imminent hull breach on multiple decks, including the one Jeanette was on. Whatever the source of the disturbance, it had saved possibly hundreds of lives by occurring, including Jeanette's. But aside from the baby's accelerated physical and mental progress, she hadn't found anything out of the ordinary with her daughter following the harrowing incident. The baby seemed happy most of the time, including now, which almost enough to lift her spirits. Almost.

She reached down and picked up the baby, who despite being so alert a moment ago, settled quietly into her shoulder. "I know, she's just amazing." She forced a smile for Deanna, knowing full well Troi would see through it all. So she changed the subject. "Have you made any progress with any of the re-captured crews?"

Deanna sat down tiredly on the edge of the bio bed. She had just returned from the main cargo bay where Data and T'Pel were monitoring the survivors of the five captured ships. It was an overwhelming and exhausting process. "They're enclosed in an energy field right now, and while I understand they need to remain in some kind of stasis so they can gradually be weaned from the Borg, my powers are unable to reach them. Believe me, I've tried."

Beverly was sympathetic. "I know you have. And because I know your abilities, I know that eventually you will break through."

Deanna smiled. "Thank you for the vote of confidence."

Beverly smiled back. "Anytime."

Deanna turned away first, looking over her shoulder, sensing someone's approach before they appeared. A few seconds later Wesley and Phillipa Louvois walked into sick bay. Louvois had her hand on Wesley's shoulder, a gesture which Beverly assumed was meant to be supportive. Still it annoyed her.

Still rocking the baby gently, she looked from one to the other then back at Wesley with concern. "Wes, I thought you were taking it easy? You've been through a great deal, and I want you to rest."

"Well..." he glanced at Captain Louvois nervously.

"Wesley came to speak to me a few minutes ago, and I suggested he come and tell you, Doctor."

Beverly looked at her son with growing worry. "What's going on?"

"The Captain getting captured, Mom...it's my fault."

"Nonsense! Now, I know you Wesley, and I knew you would blame yourself, but it's not your fault-"

"Mom, it _is_!" he shouted unexpectedly.

Beverly glanced at Deanna, and handed the baby to her. Running a hand through her hair she turned back to her son. "Talk to me, Wesley."

"The guy who was pretending to be Dad...I gave him the code."

"What code?"

"The override code to the outer shuttle bay doors."

Beverly covered her eyes with her hand. "Um...I don't understand. Why would you do that, Wesley?"

"He told me you all wanted him to be handed to the Terrans...he said all he wanted to do was get away safely, so I thought...I thought if something did happen, and he needed to escape, he could. Since no one wanted him here, I didn't think, well I never thought this would happen. I'm so sorry Mom."

Beverly embraced her son, still confused, but beginning to understand just how important it had been for Wesley to have Jack back. So important that he had been blinded by this need, and in the process had made a grave mistake. She pulled back, and wiped the tears from his cheeks. "It's going to be alright, Wesley. We have Jeanette now. We need to be strong as a family. I'll need your help, now more than ever. Alright?"

He nodded. "Alright."

Louvois shifted behind her. "I'm sorry, Doctor... but this has to be reported to Commander Riker at the very least-"

"And you thought you would escort him down here to tell me that? To humiliate him?"

"I had no intention of..."

"I know," Beverly snapped. "Just save it. I don't want to hear it. Just do what you feel your duty requires of you, Phillipa."

* * *

 _ **The Contagion-Detention Cell A-1**_

"Is there anything you require?" Her voice was cold, but her gaze was intense. "As is the custom with prisoners, I had my least experienced doctor tend to your injuries. Funny that she exceeded my expectations...when she did a body scan she noted that you had a number of still healing scars. Very...precise, almost _robotic_ cuts throughout your body. As a doctor, I'm quite curious to learn what kind of _invasive_ experience could have caused such injuries, that they required such extensive surgery...I also admit I've wondered about your surgeon. I can imagine she has a better bed-side manner than me."

Picard tried to ignore the chill he experienced at her smug description of his healing surgical scars where the implants had been. _She's familiar with the Borg, as we now know...or is she simply guessing at what happened to me?_ The familiarity with which she looked at him was unnerving, as had been the sarcastic reference to Beverly. _My Beverly._ He continued to stand stiffly, arms at his sides. "I demand that you return me to my ship. You have no right to hold me here."

He watched as Admiral Crusher shifted a slim black box under her arm, and leaned on the outside of the cell doorway. She snapped her fingers at the guard, and he exited without a word. Jean-Luc noted that she still wore her long coat, but it was now open enough that he glimpsed a patch of skin beneath, and the sparkle of a gold sash over a low-cut uniform top. _Yes, the uniforms are quite different in this universe._ He shifted his gaze too slowly, and she smiled at his discomfort. "Do you like what you see?"

He sighed inwardly but said nothing, keeping his gazed focused and measured on her face.

"Well, your discomfort isn't entirely unexpected. The information we have gathered over the years about the Lesser Universe indicates you are as a people quite weak, tentative, and less prone to physical expression than we are." She looked him up and down. "No doubt you are ashamed of your bodies too. The Jean-Luc I know wears a uniform that he believes favors his assets, but the baggy uniform leaves more to the imagination, which I rather like. The red is a poor choice though...we officers tend to stay away from that color here, particularly when trying to remain alive."

 _Just let her talk._

"Are you this verbose usually, or is this for my benefit, Captain?" He could feel her studying his facial expression closely. "Perhaps you would enjoy discussing more serious subject matter...such as how Jack Crusher came to be aboard your ship?" The tone of her voice had shifted significantly, and he could tell that she was dead serious now.

"I would be happy to exchange information on that subject as soon as you have returned me to my ship."

She gave a quick laugh and paced away from the doorway. "He told the guards they'd made a mistake-that he wasn't really Jack. So typical of him, the frightened fool. Always scampering to escape a situation he created for himself." She turned back to face him, with a new look of determination. "Or was he telling the truth? Tell me what you know."

"It seems we're at a stand still, since you have no intention of acceding to my demands. Why should I give you any information?"

She smiled coldly. "Rest assured, Captain...what you don't give willingly, I _will_ take from you. Welcome to the Terran Empire."

* * *

 **A few minutes later...**

Beverly Crusher walked along with her armed guards through the detention area. The busiest area of the ship, as of late. "Has Lieutenant Yar been re-captured yet?"

"No, Admiral. She was last spotted in a Jeffries tube on deck-"

"I didn't ask you for details, McDaniels, but I certainly want to know why she hasn't been captured yet. I saw her on the bridge of the star drive minutes before I beamed them all over, and she looked like she'd taken quite the beating. What's taking so long?"

"We'll re-double our efforts, sir."

"See that you do," she said as they halted outside of a temporary detention cell. "Open it," she said flatly. The man inside got up from an apparent nap, and walked toward them, as the force field blinked out.

"I hoped you'd return," he said. "Um, about what I said before..."

"Oh, if I recall it was something like 'wait, wait, I'm not really Jack...' _pathetic_ ," she said.

M raised his arms to try and convey a helplessness but it was wasted on this woman. Compared to the first Beverly he'd met, she was stone.

"If you're not Jack, why do you appear exactly as he did? I can't say you've aged well, either," she added, with a hint of humor.

"It's uh, complicated."

"Of course it's complicated, Jack. It always was, with you." She nodded for the guards to take hold of him, and they were all on their way again.

"Wait, where are you taking me?" he protested, squirming in the grasp of her officers.

Beverly smiled, but didn't look back. "To meet an old friend."

* * *

 **Detention Cell B-1**

Picard looked up from his thoughts at the sound of footsteps, expecting Beverly again. He had a few choice words to share with her, which simply evaporated when he saw who stood with her. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and his muscles tensed. "Jack?"

The man on the other side of the field had gone a sickly pale color, but he didn't seem capable of speaking. Jack was supposed to be dead or certainly incapable of returning to the real world. Oh _Jack, you should never have come back._

M was having difficulty forming a vocal reply. Oh _no_ , he thought uncertainly. _The Boss._

Picard cracked his knuckles. "Let's hear it Jack."

Beverly waved her hand over the force field controls and the barrier dropped immediately. She shoved M in ahead of her, and then stepped in herself. She nodded for the guards to lift the field again, and they did, without hesitation. She handed Picard the narrow black box she had been carrying, and he accepted it with both hands, examining it with some confusion. But then she moved closer to him, he looked into her eyes, and they had an understanding. Years ago, he had begged her, and now the time had finally come. _Oh yes. Retribution._

She moved even closer to him, while M looked on with mixed fear and fascination. "You know what you need to do?" she whispered to Picard.

Jean-Luc nodded, not taking his eyes off hers, as she pulled him closer and kissed him passionately. M watched transfixed while this continued for several long moments. Finally, Beverly pulled away, although Jean-Luc still held her upper arms tightly. "Then may the better man win," she said.

"I already am the better man," he insisted in a low voice, trying to re-capture the moment they'd just had.

She patted him on the chest condescendingly. "You used to be," she said, finally stepping aside. The guards dropped the field, and she walked outside of the cell. She didn't give the cell occupants another glance before she and her entourage had departed.

Picard lowered his head and stared at M silently.

 _He's going to kill me if I don't do something!_

As if on cue, Picard unhurriedly turned and placed the black box on the cell's sink and leaned over it. "Now...Jackie Boy," Picard said, opening the case with a click. "If you recall, the last time we saw each other, all those years ago, you swore that if we ever met again you would kill me." He pulled out two long thin daggers, and turned back to face his old friend. He tossed one of the knives to M, who caught it. "Now's your chance."

* * *

 **Hi, as always, thanks for reading and reviewing. Happy New Year...**


	48. Chapter 48

**Chapter 47**

* * *

 ** _ISS Enterprise-Saucer Section_**

Commander William T. Riker of the ISS Enterprise sat in the captain's chair of the Enterprise saucer section. Red shirts scurried past him on the bridge, making repairs to the damaged isolinear systems. The damage to the ship's hull and impulse drive should have been greater, and that it wasn't, was nearly a miracle. He was not so blind to miss that he was lucky to be alive, and now in command of at least half of the ship he loved so much.

There had been an incident unexpectedly involving the Borg and several other ships, including some from the Lesser Universe. No one, either conveniently, or because of the mayhem, remembered much after that, until power on board the saucer began to restore itself without Terran assistance. Riker couldn't remember the ship having such regenerative powers in the past, but he had to admit, it was a positive development.

But the star drive had been destroyed by the Borg at a moment when it contained the only person who ever truly meant anything to him. If he and Deanna had possessed closer to a normal bond, he would have been distraught and seeking revenge for her tragic death. But Deanna hadn't died, and he knew that because their bond transcended just about everything else. He knew she was alive, although the spark that had been inside his mind all these years signifying her presence, had now dimmed. Had she been injured? He had to find her, that much was clear.

He wondered of course about the other ships, but since he knew Deanna was alive, it was likely everyone else on the Contagion, and at least most of the stragglers from the star drive were still alive. The Contagion was the best equipped ship in the Empire, and had all resources at her disposal. Of course Crusher and Troi detested each other, and to have them on board the same ship was dangerous. Good thing Troi could take care of herself. He shrugged it off mentally, and decided to enjoy his new found freedom.

Meanwhile, he considered his options. He had the Enterprise saucer section, and was at least 12 parsecs from the ship's last position, safely away from prying eyes. He had a ship that had apparently acquired semi-regenerative powers, and for now, he was in command.

His people continued to encourage dissent against Picard, who of course had split the ship in two and left most of the 600 crew on board the saucer while he attempted to win back his ex-wife, who also happened to be the most powerful officer in the Fleet. Picard had managed to get them all captured, but now that had changed for the better too. _Good riddance, Jean-Luc._ Riker smiled to himself, very pleased. Finally he had the numbers. The problem was that despite Picard's misdeeds recently, Picard was legendary, and his unrestrained ambition and narcissism was still the model for all up and coming officers. His exploits recently had only served to feed this image, and it was clear that the crew believed Picard was on to something big this time. This meant that despite Will's emphasis on talking the man down, he was constantly trying to keep mutinies at bay. He knew how to put a stop to this kind of problem: keep the crew distracted and busy with repairs.

According to one of his stooges who was on the bridge at the time of the Borg encounter (while Riker was in a detention cell), a beat up Constitution class star ship had appeared and swooped in close to the saucer section. Close enough to come within transporter range. Will's spy watched Geordi LaForge disappear in some kind of weird liquid-like transporter beam...and the engineer hadn't been seen since. Immediately following LaForge's beam out, a weapon had been discharged toward the Borg ship, again purportedly from the deflector array of the beat up old ship. It seemed a little too convenient that LaForge had a getaway ship waiting for him at the worst possible moment, but it was possible he had crossed the Admiral, and had decided to exit the scene before she crushed him like a space bug.

Riker waved over a young ensign who was passing by. "Ensign. Wait a minute..."

The young man slowed to stop. "Yes, sir?"

"What's our status?"

"Impulse drive is back, shields are at 84 percent capacity, weapons are at full power."

"Excellent," Riker said with a smile. "What's your name, ensign?"

"Nelly, sir."

"Just Nelly?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well...okay, let's get our sensors up and running, Nelly. I need us tracking the _Contagion_ at all times."

"Er...Sir?"

"Er... _what_ Ensign Nelly?"

"Sir are you planning to attack the IMS Contagion?"

"If I was, would there be a problem? As a practice I'm not inclined to take direction from officers below my rank."

"Well, the crew is getting anxious, Commander."

"'The crew is getting anxious' _Captain,_ you mean."

"Technically you're still a Commander, sir...Captain Picard disappeared and now-"

"Captain Picard _abandoned_ this ship and his crew...that means you too, Mr. Nelly. Just be certain you know where your loyalties lie. And spread the word. I don't want anyone getting any ideas below decks."

"Actually, we're kind of limited as far as decks go, this being just the saucer and all-"

"Just spread the word, Nelly! And please...don't take everything so literally."

"Aye sir."

"Oh and Mr. Nelly..."

The ensign turned back nervously. "Sir?"

"I want a new captain's chair." He shifted uncomfortably. The strange Borg port at the back of the headrest was a constant irritation to the back of his neck. "This one itches."

* * *

 ** _USS Enterprise_**

Beverly finished staring wide-eyed at the small view screen in the captain's ready room and turned her questioning look to Riker. "Was that supposed to make me feel better, Will?" She had just watched the recording of her Mirror universe counterpart explaining how delighted she was to have Jean-Luc in custody. The experience of seeing someone who looked exactly like you, but was not you was entirely surreal and frightening. She was utterly afraid and confused. "Why did you show me this?"

"I..." Riker glanced up at Data, who was standing silently nearby. "I'm sorry, Beverly, I just wanted to make sure you were aware of what was happening."

"That some strange woman, who looks like an absolutely frightening version of me, by the way-"

"Agreed," said Riker quickly.

"...that she has the captain in custody and has no intention of letting him go." She laced her fingers together in front of her on the desk. "So now that I know. Now what?"

"Data is going to attempt to rescue Captain Picard."

She shook her head. "What if he's injured-"

"Data will bring necessary medical supplies."

"And why Data alone? He's not indestructible, and we don't know what these people are capable of." _What the hell does this woman want with Jean-Luc?_

"Based on your own research into the attack on the science colony, doctor, we were able to determine that the Terrans favor not only disruptor weapons technology, but also weapons which damage the nervous systems of their enemies. As you mentioned, I am not indestructible. However, I am better suited to infiltrating the Contagion than are my humanoid colleagues."

"Contagion...what a lovely name for a ship commanded by a doctor," Crusher remarked dryly. "She _is_ a doctor, isn't she?"

"We can only guess," Riker said honestly before getting to his feet.

Beverly stood up too, looked at Data with a sad smile, and gave him a quick embrace. "Good luck, Data. And be safe."

"I will endeavor to do so, Doctor."

* * *

 ** _IMS Contagion_**

Jack put up his hands, still holding the knife loosely. Although he was quickly familiarizing himself with this parallel universe, he was still amazed at how eerily the man in front of him resembled the Picard he had come to know. Had Picard from the prime universe run away as a boy to live among Orion pirates instead of enrolling in Starfleet Academy, this would have been the result. Bearded with a tattooed dagger beneath his Adam's apple, and brandishing a real dagger in his fist, this Picard was decidedly more unpleasant. His keenly intelligent eyes held more than a hint of cruelty, and his bare arms were scarred from years of violent wear and tear. Was this the person he had been communicating with for so long as the Boss? M decided he had only seconds to find out.

Meanwhile, Picard was watching M like he was prey. "Did you forget how to fight, Jackie Boy?"

"You can stop pretending now...she's gone", said M, trying to remain confident.

Picard's response was booming and incredulous. " _Pretending?_ "

"We know each other...at least you know me-I work for you," M ventured as convincingly as possible.

"You did work for me, Jack...many years ago before you revealed your true nature. Before you destroyed my life...for a time."

"I don't know what you're talking about...because as I said, I'm not really Jack. I work for you," he insisted. "And I brought you Picard-the other Picard, just like you told me to."

Picard blinked, but then readjusted his stance. "Jack, you were always such a fine liar. I'm quite disappointed in this story you've concocted to distract me."

"I'm not Jack-"

"You sound like a subspace transmission on repeat, Jack. Which only makes me want to kill you that much more."

M had barely gotten out another "wait" before Picard slid his foot forward across the floor toward M and came in low, swiping at his upper thigh with the knife. He elbowed M in the kidney for good measure, before moving to the other side of the cell.

The knife was so sharp that M didn't realize at first that he'd been cut. Then came the searing pain. He looked down to see a jagged tear in his pants leg fill with blood. 'What the f-...ah!" He gripped his own weapon more tightly and backpedaled away from Picard trying not to trip over his own feet. "You're fucking crazy!"

Picard grinned. "Now...are you going to fight me, or continue your inane recitations?"

M took a defensive stance, trying to ignore his bleeding leg. "You don't believe me? Listen...maybe you're not the Boss-"

"I'm the Captain," Picard corrected him. "Which has a much better ring to it than Boss."

M felt woozy. "Okay...okay, I'm going to tell you why I'm here. Someone from your universe, someone very powerful, hired me to infiltrate the Enterprise crew in my universe."

"This is your universe, Jack, you're not talking _sense_!"

"No, no...I'm from the other, the...the Lesser Universe."

Picard leapt at him unexpectedly again and sliced a tendon in M's forearm, which caused M to scream, and drop the long knife. As it clattered to the deck, M clamped his hand over the new wound, feeling his breath come in gasps now. He reached forward clumsily for the weapon, and Picard kicked him swiftly in the groin. As M fell forward, Picard grasped M's shoulders and threw him backwards careening into the wall. He fell on M, clamping his hands around his neck. "That was for _her_. For my child," he shouted, squeezing harder.

M began to shriek and writhe beneath him. "I don't know what you're talking about!"

"You destroyed my child," Picard screamed furiously, punching M in the middle of the chest with all his might.

M collapsed into convulsive wheezing, kicking Picard off of him before curling back into a protective ball. Picard crawled back toward the wall and leaned with his back against the cool metal. "You killed her," he whispered, closing his eyes tightly.

* * *

"Look," M said, still gasping for breath, laying on his side. "I'm really sorry if someone who looks like me hurt your daughter-"

"You killed her Jack, she was on board my ship, when you destroyed it." Picard sat cross-legged on the floor and leaned his head back against the cool wall. His bloody hand rested in his lap, holding the knife loosely. He stared flatly at the wall beyond M and began speaking in a far away voice. "You told me you didn't know...perhaps you didn't because we had kept the affair so well hidden from you... I should be getting more joy out of this-this revenge that is owed to me. But I'm not. This doesn't feel real to me." He shifted his gaze to Jack impassively. Then something registered in his eyes, and he leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees. "You're not Jack. So who are you?"

M swallowed. "I'm a mercenary-"

M's words were cut off by Picard bursting into laughter, which he stifled quickly, returning to seriousness. "Go on..."

"I was hired by a man who used some really funky procedure to mix my DNA with his until it was indistinguishable. He resurrected Jack in the Lesser Universe."

Picard stood up and wiped his knife on his pants leg before placing it back in the black box. Then he looked at Jack. "So this Boss you're talking about is Jack Crusher from this universe."

M would have leaped up in the air, if he could, but instead he just lay in a pool of drying blood. "Shit, you're right! Of course, it's so obvious."

Picard crossed his arms, and looked more pensive now than consumed by rage. "So Jack is alive...what would Jack want with our counterparts from the Lesser Universe?"

M tried to push himself up to a sitting position. "Honestly, I don't fully know. But he wanted me to disrupt Jean-Luc's life-"

"Jean-Luc? Were you friendly with the Lesser Picard?"

"Well...that was the set-up. In their universe, Jack died about 13 years ago, while on an away mission, or whatever they call it. Your counterpart tried to save him, but he died... tragically. They were best friends."

"So these people were stupid enough to believe that you were Jack resurrected from the dead?"

"Well...the story I was instructed to feed them was that due to a universal transfer from some kind of ion storm, the Jack who really died that night had been the one from your universe, and that the Jack from the Lesser Universe was sent to this universe-what they call the Mirror Universe."

"How adorable."

"The Lesser Jack was supposedly kept and tortured-by you for 13 years, while his friends and family believed him to be dead."

"And you assumed that it was me who concocted such an idiotic tale, and to what end?"

"Well, you-I mean the Boss wanted the Enterprise, and later he said he wanted the Lesser Picard killed too. When I kidnapped him yesterday, I intended to bring him to the Boss."

"In exchange for what?"

M shrugged. "Payment...a new life. I thought I would like it here, to be honest."

"You thought you would like it and live happily ever after in the Terran Empire? Nothing like reality to change one's mind...so, what else? Why Does Jack want the Lesser Enterprise?"

M shook his head. "I've been in the dark. All I know is, I had a lot of fun doing my thing."

"Which was what exactly? Am I correct that my counterpart wants to kill you, perhaps more than I can comprehend?"

"Probably internally, but he's so tightly disciplined, he would never do such a thing. Probably came closest in the shuttle craft."

"Well now he's in detention on this ship, and has captured the attention of Beverly. He's a devastatingly charismatic curiosity from another universe. That doesn't necessarily bode well for me," said Picard.

"Meaning you wouldn't mind having him gone, would you?"

Picard just stared at M dangerously, so M continued to press his point. "If I found your Jack, and handed over the Lesser Picard, not only would you be rid of him..."

"But I would know where Jack was." Picard smiled slowly. "Yes. I desire some proper revenge."

"So you'll do it?"

"Do what?"

"Help me get out of here and off of this ship so I can track down Jack."

"Does it look as though I am inclined to do anything to help you? At this point, I haven't changed my mind about killing you yet, whether you are really Jack or not. Perhaps the important thing is that Beverly believes you to be Jack. How would she react I wonder if I let you live? Yet another development which would not bode well for Jean-Luc." Picard reached out to hold his palm next to the force field. The electrical charge gave him a less than pleasant buzz, which vibrated in his Borg implant. _The Borg are after me,_ he thought. _Is Beverly right? Have I doomed the Empire by taking to this implant so willingly?_

"What if _you_ left the ship?"

Picard turned around. "Huh?"

"There's a Lesser Enterprise just 2000 meters from us, and its missing a Captain..."

Picard's face remained stoic, but his eyes brightened as though lit by flame. "Interesting thought."

M leaned in, excited at this new prospect. "So over there there's another Beverly...and she and Picard even have a child. She's probably just like-"

Picard had the knife again in a flash and was holding it to M's throat. "What did you just say?"

M choked. "Not sure I want to repeat it. Sorry, I didn't mean to offend."

"Beverly is not interchangeable with her Lesser version any more than you are _really_ Jack. And if you speak of my daughter again, you die. Understood?"

"Yes."

"Good," Picard said, letting go of M roughly. He pointed the dagger at his new ally. "Now if we're going to do this, we're going to do it my way. Tell me everything you know about the Lesser Enterprise and her crew."

* * *

 **Hey, thanks for staying tuned for each chapter. The next one is probably going to be crazy. Best, -PP**


	49. Chapter 49

**Chapter 48**

 _ **USS Enterprise**_

"You'll beam into what we've identified as the detention area on board the Contagion, and use the barrier discs to shield you from any weapons fire," Riker said pointing to one such object that Data was holding. "Shoot to stun when fired upon, but if you find the Captain under guard, use whatever means you need to to retrieve him."

"Understood sir."

"Once you've reached him, signal Geordi and he will beam you both back immediately. As we've discussed, if the Captain can't be located in the detention area, I want you to beam back immediately and we will re-assess our plans."

"Yes sir," Data said, dropping the metallic disc back into his pack along with the others.

"Very good then," Riker said, stepping away from the transporter pad. "Good luck Data."

Data nodded. "Energize."

* * *

 ** _IMS Contagion_**

After M had talked for awhile about his adventures among the Enterprise crew, Picard, who had been listening silently, seemed to lose interest, and got up and walked away.

After a few moments, he said, "If Jack wants the Enterprise so badly, then perhaps I will bring it to him. He will see his plot almost realized right before I end his miserable life." _And then I will take the ship for myself._

M slid back against the wall, starting to wish he had a medic. Picard, meanwhile, oblivious to M's pain, stood staring out the cell door blankly, as the security guard stood nearby looking bored. If he had been listening to the two men talk, he was doing a good job of appearing as though he wasn't. Picard didn't seem to care if the guard had heard anything interesting or not.

"I've got a sure way of getting you on board," said M. "The shuttle I came in on...and this," he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small shiny object. Picard squinted, peering down at the item in M's outstretched palm.

"What is it?"

"It's the Lesser Picard's communicator. It's also a homing device and a universal translator...if you ever needed that kind of thing. The Admiral's guards scanned me, but I guess they didn't care about this once they realized it wasn't lethal." He tossed the communicator badge to Picard who caught it in mid-air. Picard's naturally suspicious expression faded, as M continued. "Put that on once you're in the shuttle, and they will be able to identify it as the Lesser Picard's as you approach. On board the shuttle is a scientific device they call a tricorder. The code for the door override is in there, if for some reason they catch on."

"They are likely to be suspicious of the two lifeforms on board," said Picard.

M moved his head slightly to look up at Picard with confusion. "Two?"

Picard smiled, still staring out the door. "No doubt they will believe that the Lesser Picard is returning with you as his prisoner," he murmured sounding amused at the thought.

 _Asshole._ M started to laugh, and then stopped when he realized how much that hurt. He was also starting to get really confused. "So, don't you want to know any more details?"

"No," said Picard. "I'll manage."

"Yeah...but you're going to need a lot more preparation if you want to pull off the look...that tattoo has got to go. And the beard, although it's a nice look. The shuttle replicator can make you one of their uniforms, but-"

"Clearly you misunderstand my intent," Picard said sharply. "You are mistaken if you think that I intend to masquerade as my Lesser version, and try and fool Picard's crew into thinking I am him."

"You mean, you're just planning on busting in and taking over the ship?"

"Yes."

"Not to question your abilities, but-"

"I suggest you stop speaking before I eliminate you from my plans altogether."

"I thought these were _our_ plans," insisted M.

"And being the imitation Jack qualifies you for what? Besides, a mercenary in your universe is ...perhaps the equivalent of a nanny in mine."

"I'll convince the Admiral that Jack's alive and out there somewhere. She'll want to track him down, won't she?"

"Possibly...as long as doing so does not conflict with her own plans. And then what?"

"I'll make contact with Jack."

"How?"

"I'll find a way. And then I'll notify you as to his location."

"Fine." Picard nodded, but seemed distracted now. "But I need something more from you, to make this deal worthwhile."

M groaned inwardly. "What?"

"Having my good twin present on Beverly's ship is at best irritating, especially where I will be absent. I know Beverly, and she is probably fascinated by the prospect of playing doctor with him. However, should anything happen between them, I will be dismayed to say the least."

"And you expect me to do what..."

"Ensure that nothing serious happens between them."

"And if I fail to do that, while imprisoned? Everything they do is beyond my control!"

"I thought you were smart, _Faux Jack_. Bring the situation within your control, and ensure that nothing happens between them while I'm gone, or I will kill you, which will mean of course that the deal is off," he promised.

"Okay, okay," M agreed, not having any choice in the matter. "Um...what do you think the Admiral will do, when she sees you're not here, and that I'm not dead?" _And how exactly does he plan on getting out of this cell?_

"Well...that sounds like a question you should answer for yourself. I recommend that you do so before she arrives, as she has a quick temper, to be sure, and therefore _you_ will have to think quickly. And don't think I haven't considered paying her a visit in her quarters before I leave to tell her myself. But not even the prospect of another taste of her will make me risk death at Beverly's hands right now. I have to be patient, and steadfast to re-gain her allegiance the correct way."

He suddenly snapped his fingers and beckoned the guard. The man hesitated, before approaching.

"What do you want?"

Picard held up the communicator badge between his fingers. "You see this? This spy here was imprisoned by Admiral Crusher, but not before this piece of contraband escaped your attention."

The guard paled. "Oh. What would I need to do for you to make this issue go away?" The guard asked slowly.

"Issue?"

"I didn't know what else to call it."

Picard smiled. "Activate the proximity alarm in access tunnel J-M4...or the next time the Admiral comes here, which will be soon, I guarantee... I'll report your ineptitude."

The guard looked ill, but moved to the wall, perhaps confused as to why Captain Picard would want to do such a thing. He tapped the wall panel, before dropping his hand and looking to Picard for approval. In the distance, a blaring alarm could now be heard.

Picard smiled again, just as quick footsteps sounded from down the corridor. The guard hardly had a chance to turn his head, when a slim figure came sprinting swiftly out of nowhere.

Not slowing, Yar put her knee in the guard's back, and grabbed him around the head, twisting quickly with a snap. It was the easiest death she could offer. She grabbed him beneath the armpits and walked his body over to the wall, slapping his lifeless palm against the door lock. The force field dropped, and Picard stepped out smoothly. He quickly tapped in a security code and the field reappeared, while M looked on in shock.

"Natasha," Picard said, surveying his tactical officer with fatherly approval.

"You called, sir?" Yar was dirty and beat up, but she also appeared happier than he had ever seen her.

He gripped her arms affectionately. "Sneaking about in the passageways has done wonders for your mood."

Yar laughed, which he didn't think he'd seen before either. She stepped over the unfortunate guard and handed Picard a black backpack she'd had slung over one shoulder. He opened it, and found a number of weapons, limited rations, a small med kit, handheld agonizers and a portable field generator, among other things. "Where did you find all of this?" he asked in surprise.

She shrugged modestly. "I just gathered enough for you to carry, Captain...wherever it is that you're going."

"You're coming with me, Natasha. We're going to the Lesser Enterprise."

"Sir!"

He squeezed her arm. "I need you with me. Navigating their strange culture may be difficult for us both...but once we have their ship under our control it will all be worth it. The Enterprise was destined to be mine in any universe."

"Aye sir."

Picard and Yar began to walk away when M shouted out frantically. "Wait! How do I know you won't screw me over?"

Picard turned his head with an insulted expression. "Do I look like a man who would break his word?"

M opened his mouth to reply, but found no suitable response, especially with Yar staring at him so fiercely. "But, how much should I tell her about Jack...and everything else?"

"You're the expert manipulator," said Picard. "Use your judgment. But there is one message you can deliver for me. Tell her...tell her I'm still the _better_ man."

Suddenly an alarm began an ear-piercing wail, and the computer issued a warning. _Intruder alert...unauthorized transport. Intruder alert..._

"Perfect timing," said Picard, happy for the distraction. "Goodbye Faux Jack."

* * *

 _ **20 parsecs away on the ISS Stargazer**_

"What you're talking about is treason." Geordi sat back in a chair and looked around the table. Wesley Crusher, a semi-mutilated Jack Crusher, and a fat guy from the Lesser Universe. Not confidence inspiring. At least, not at first glance.

"Oh, all of a sudden, you're a patriot."

"It's not about being a patriot, Wes, it's about loyalty. Something you apparently know nothing about."

"That's because I was raised to consider those things as weak."

"Well," Geordi said, hooking his thumb in Jack's direction. "Blame your daddy for giving you those issues...not me."

Jack remained expressionless. Geordi had already learned that he was given to fits of insane laughter and aggressive behavior, seemed highly intelligent, and then at other times he seemed to simply zone out, staring sometimes literally into space. _Someone is responsible for messing him up real bad. Damaged goods._

"Look," said Wesley. "Data left you behind when he became Emperor. He left us all behind. Do you honestly think you mean anything to him?"

Geordi sighed. "Even if you were right about that...why would I get involved in your little plan?"

"You've seen the Borg up close. Do you think we stand a chance as a civilization as long as they're in control?"

Geordi kept his expression neutral, but he could recall seeing Data sitting on that throne, surrounded by a maze of wires. Data wasn't running anything now, he was just a pawn for the Borg. And if Data could be subdued and made inconsequential, then so could every Terran in the Empire. "Honestly...no."

"Then are you going to help us or not?" Wesley nearly shouted in Laforge's face.

"If I give you my stored information, Wesley, what are you going to do with it?"

"Well, based on the schematics, we'll figure out a way to sever his head without shutting down his core operating functions."

"And what specifically are you going to do with Data's severed head?"

Wesley glanced nervously at his father. "Dad?"

Jack shook his head slowly. "I can't tell you everything."

Wesley slammed his fist on the table in frustration, and Geordi got up with a laugh, walking away.

When he turned back around he said, "I don't think you really have any kind of plan at all, Jack. What you've got is a mental imbalance of some kind...which believe me, I understand is not uncommon in our society. And Wesley, you seem to really want to be part of something big, so much so that you're willing to overlook the details. But I'm not giving either of you the information you want until you actually tell me something!"

Wesley glared at Jack. "Well?"

Jack glanced momentarily at Pots, who shrugged. "We're going to bring Data's head to Romulus."

" _What?_ " Wesley and Geordi said at the same time.

"Only the Romulans know how to stop the Borg," said Jack quietly.

"But we wiped out the Romulans years ago! They don't exist anymore."

"Oh yes they do," Jack said in a resigned voice. He slowly rolled up his sleeve to reveal a dark tattoo of an ominous hawk-like creature on his inner forearm. It held in its talons a planet that looked very much like Terra. "And eventually like me, you'll give them your allegiance...either willingly, or not."


	50. Chapter 50

**Chapter 49**

 ** _IMS Contagion_**

Data materialized, and quickly took in his surroundings. _Intruder alert...unauthorized transport. Intruder alert..._ He was alone for now, but the ship's alarms were already announcing his presence. He took out his tricorder, and matched the information it was sending him about the layout of this section of the Terran ship. This was indeed the detention area. However, it was roughly ten times the size of the prisoner detention area on the Enterprise, suggesting this ship regularly held prisoners. He began walking swiftly toward the main detention area, realizing that out of necessity he might need to deactivate all 100 of the cell doors. This would serve the dual purpose of causing a significant distraction for the Terrans, which could work to his advantage.

While walking along, he pulled a small oblong explosive charge out of his bag. He could use these spatial charges to produce a concurrent detonation, connecting to each cell door. In less than a half a second he had calculated the measurements between each cell door throughout the facility and programmed it into the spatial charge. He managed to slip past one guard without being seen, and then jogged to the closest cell. The field barrier was up, but there was no one inside. He attached one of the charges against the outside door lock panel, and stepped a safe distance blast that resulted was loud but not particularly dangerous, and he noted from the tricorder that all of the cells were now unlocked.

It wasn't long before he heard footsteps running towards him. Three prisoners raced toward him, and they were moving toward him at a brisk pace, breathing erratically. When he was first spotted, his hand dropped to his phaser, but unexpectedly, the prisoners dropped to one knee, heads bowed. Another wave of prisoners came flooding toward him, this time, with some guards following behind, firing disruptors. Seeing Data, they all stopped and skidded to a stop and copied the others by kneeling down. One guard slowly raised his head to get a glimpse of Data, but didn't say a word, just dropping his head back down. Though he found this intriguing, Data continued walking through the crowd of kneeling Terrans, occasionally checking his tricorder. Another rush of footsteps came toward him, and he could now detect from his tricorder that Captain Picard's communicator was among the group and heading toward him. Suddenly, the communicator signal veered off the tricorder screen, perhaps entering a junction of some kind in an adjacent corridor. Believing the captain to be near, Data picked up the pace, as prisoners continued to stream toward him. Unexpectedly, Captain Picard appeared, racing toward him so fast that he slid a few paces past Data before halting. Data noted that the captain was not wearing his communicator.

"Data, you-"

Data wordlessly grasped Jean-Luc's arm, before reaching up to hit his communicator, but his elbow locked stiffly in place.

"Data!" Picard shouted. Still holding the captain's arm, Data looked down at his own torso, which was glowing with a bluish burst of electromagnetic energy. "Sir...I have been shot." He attempted to take a step forward, but his joints locked up, and he fell forward onto the deck, still glowing blue.

Suddenly there was a shout behind them. Picard saw beyond the crowd of now confused escaped prisoners, Reginald Barclay standing down the corridor with the Admiral's guards. He was holding an energy wand, the weapon he had just used to stun the android. "Th-that's not the real Emperor, you idiots! Stun them!"

Jean-Luc grabbed Data, and began to drag him out of the way just as the disruptor fire rained down on them. The first stun beam hit him in the legs, and he collapsed on top of Data's solid frame. Luckily for him, the wave of electromagnetic energy that had surrounded Data had now faded, and did not harm him, but when he slapped at Data's communicator, he found it unresponsive.

"Grab the android's belongings, Natasha," came a chillingly familiar voice. Identical to his own voice, but yet not...

He tried to twist around at the torso, since his legs were numb and immovable. A shadow very like his own loomed over him, and he reasonably expected the worst. He managed to block the first blow, a hard punch intended for his face, but the second strike, powered by a metallic object, hit him in the temple. Blackness descended over him, only to lift a moment later, and then he was looking to the side into his own eyes.

His Terran counterpart was squatting down next to him, holding a large disruptor loosely in his hand. "So...we meet again and for the first time," said his mirror version. His lips parted in a sinister smile. "You don't look so good, Captain. I can imagine your fury at being bested by someone who looks so much like Jack. Believe me, I can. But, I'm afraid you and Data are going to stay here for a bit longer. Grab Data's communicator, Natasha."

Yar had been staring wide-eyed at the Lesser Captain Picard, but she moved quickly to Data's side, not forgetting who she was taking orders from.

"Tasha," Jean-Luc whispered, trying to think through the fog in his brain. Seeing his dead crew member resurrected made his situation even more unfathomable.

"Sir," she said, looking down at her captain's Lesser counterpart. "He looks just like you," she insisted sounding amazed.

"But he's _not_ _me_ , Natasha, and I will have you remember that!" the Terran Picard shouted.

"Testy," Jean-Luc murmured groggily.

Terran Picard slapped him in the face, which was more insulting than painful. The cruel eyes leaned in closer to Jean-Luc. "You're out of your element, captain. And within minutes, I am going to be in yours."

"What are you talking about?"

Terran Picard stood up. "I'm going to take control of your ship and crew, Picard. And there's nothing you can do to stop me."

"No!" Jean-Luc lashed out, grabbing for the ankles of his mirror image. The Terran Picard kicked him away and then fired the disruptor once more at close range, knocking Jean-Luc unconscious instantly.

Picard nodded at Yar. "Let's go."

* * *

 _ **Enterprise Shuttle Craft Adriatic 11A**_

"A bunch of small energy barriers, and some spatial charges, Captain. Could be useful going into enemy territory." Yar had finished rummaging around in Data's bag, and tossed it on the seat next to her, as the captain powered up the shuttle engines.

"I leave it to you Yar to program us some portable temporary shielding we can use to get to Picard's quarters. I don't intend on making friends where we're going, and I can guarantee they will be firing on us."

"Aye sir," she said beginning to go to work.

"And use that tricorder, to upload any of the Enterprise schematics you can get ahold of."

"Yes, sir. Are the shields still down, Captain?"

"Appears so...in any case we're about to confirm whether that is true," he said, before firing the phasers through the shuttle bay doors. _A parting gift, Beverly._ He laughed raucously, as they exited out of a ragged hole in the hull. "Not as powerful as disruptors, but they'll do!"

"Put on Data's communicator," he said, adjusting the coordinates for the Enterprise which now lay beautifully in front of them in space.

Yar looked with confusion at the object in her palm. "Where should I put it sir?"

He pointed at his belt buckle, where he had already attached the Lesser Picard's communicator. "Good a place as any," he said.

Yar nodded and placed the badge on the front of her belt as well.

"One thousand meters and closing." He adjusted the trajectory again, lining it up with what appeared to be the main shuttle bay. "From the outside it almost looks like my ship," he muttered. He found the communications relay and punched it. "Picard to Riker," he said in as boring a voice as he could muster. His Lesser counterpart was boring, wasn't he? What characteristics defined them? He guessed that he would discover that in time.

 _"Riker here...Captain it's so good to hear your voice. We're reading Data with you as well, is that correct?"_

"He's here," said Picard, glancing at Yar with a smirk. "But he was...damaged by the Terrans and I had to deactivate him."

" _Yes, sir. Understood. Please proceed to the main shuttle bay for docking."_

* * *

 _ **Enterprise bridge**_

"It _sounds_ like Jean-Luc," said Philippa Louvois.

"But is it?" Deanna asked carefully. There was something odd in the tone of the captain's voice, of that she was certain.

Riker stroked his beard thoughtfully, staring at the view screen. "There are two lifeforms on board that shuttle, and neither one is Data. Whether Data's deactivated or not, his signature would still show up on our sensors."

"Jack Crusher's imposter, Commander," Worf said. "Perhaps the captain is being held captive on the shuttle."

"I don't sense that he's in distress-or even hiding his distress. He seems quite...confident," said Troi.

Riker glanced at her meaningfully. "Whatever is happening, we're not going to find out from up here. Captain Louvois you have the bridge. Troi, Worf, you're with me."

* * *

Yar put one of the bags over her shoulder and threw the other to the captain. They both pulled their disruptors, which the captain had ordered should be set for heavy stun. Her legs felt weak with a kind of giddiness she hadn't felt in sometime. The excitement of a new adventure surrounded her and permeated the air of the cramped shuttle.

"Try it out," Picard said, nodding to the disc Yar was holding. She pressed a button on the side of the barrier disc she had modified and programmed with the tricorder, and was enveloped in a bubble of energy. Picard fired his disruptor directly into the field at an angle which caused the beam to glance harmlessly off the field and burst out through the hull of the shuttle. Of course, the alarm began to sound, but since they were now inside the shuttle bay, there was no reason to fear decompression. No doubt the Starfleet crew surrounded the shuttle. Picard grinned. "Nicely done, you should have been an engineer."

"I always could pull something off in a pinch, sir."

He activated his own personal barrier, then deactivated it. "Ready?"

She nodded quickly and he hit the hatch control, and the door hydraulics lifted slowly. Before he had even jumped down from the shuttle, a large frame blocked the doorway. The look on Worf's face probably matched his own, and then he coolly fired the disruptor. The Lesser crew screamed and shouted, rushing to the Klingon's aid.

Yar jumped down beside them, and it was clear immediately that they were outnumbered. Picard activated his personal barrier and looked down at Worf, who was sprawled on the deck, the front of his uniform had been charred. "Sorry... please accept my heartfelt apology!" Picard said from the safety of his personal force field. "Old habits die hard with me when it comes to Klingons..."

"Don't move!" Will Riker was there. Same beard, less smugness. Picard nodded at Yar who had been well-briefed and didn't need verbal guidance. She strolled to a wall panel, and attempted to plug in the tricorder, but the security teams opened fire, sending her spinning into the wall. But the barrier held. She tossed two more discs at her feet and energy barriers sprung up between her and the guards. When the guards fired again, the phaser fire bounced dangerously away and back at them. More shouts of anger and frustration. Temporarily protected, Yar briefly dropped her own shield and plugged the tricorder into the wall port. In seconds she was finished, and as Captain had instructed, she continued walking past the guards toward the nearest turbo lift.

"Hold your fire," Riker shouted at his security crews.

Picard followed Yar, pausing for the first time to notice the medical personnel who were attending to Worf's still-smoldering injury. Not pausing in her task, Beverly Crusher looked up at the intruder with a mix of fear and anger. Somewhat taken in by her defiant gaze, he gave her a knowing wink, before passing by without a word.

* * *

The prisoners were being escorted roughly back to their cells, every last one of them...well with the exception of one man. Admiral Crusher stopped outside his cell. The force field barrier was down, he was free to go, and yet he sat against the back wall of the cell.

She watched him with a silent, yet hateful expression, no doubt wondering why he was injured but not dead. Eventually M spread his arms wide and said, "I can explain everything."

* * *

 **Hey, thanks for keeping up with these chapters. And I really appreciate your reviews and comments. -PP**


	51. Chapter 51

**Chapter 50**

* * *

 ** _USS Enterprise_**

 ** _Main Shuttle Bay_**

Riker shouted into the nearest comlink in the shuttle bay. "Ensign McKnight, I need you to get a lock on Captain Picard-"

 _"Sir, the computer is reading Captain Picard as being on board. He came in on the shuttle."_

"No, no, that wasn't him! Now, scan the Terran ship again, and try and get a lock on him!"

There was a long pause and the sound of anxious voices on the bridge. McKnight's voice was filled with restrained frustration. _"Sir, the Terran ship just left the sector traveling at approximately warp 8."_

Riker slammed his hand into the wall, picturing the smug smile on the Terran Admiral Crusher's face. "Damn it! Geordi, what's the status on that starboard nacelle repair?"

 _"Warp power is back online...I can get you warp 6 tops...in addition I'm trying to resolve a situation with the ship's computer."_

Great. "A _situation_? What do you mean?"

" _The computer isn't responding to normal commands on a consistent basis. For lack of a better way to explain it, we've got some kind of virus."_

 _"Could it be at all related to our encounter with the Borg?"_

 _"Possibly, sir."_

Will clenched his fist tightly, and turned his head to look at Beverly Crusher, who was crouching on the deck with a nurse, earnestly working to stabilize Worf. His security forces were currently in pursuit of Captain Picard and Tasha Yar's Terran counterparts, who were for unknown reasons launching a two man invasion of this ship. He would never forget the look of delight on the face of Picard's counterpart when he shot Worf point blank with a Terran disruptor.

Beverly didn't look up at him, but the grave concentration on her face was enough to focus his attention.

"Geordi, I need you to focus everything you have on getting maximum warp back, virus or no." He glanced over at Beverly again and lowered his voice. "It's the only way we're going to be able to catch them."

 _"I'm on it, Commander."_

* * *

Riker had turned to see that Beverly was now on her feet and speaking into her communicator. "Dr. Selar, Lieutenant Worf was shot in the chest at close range by a very powerful disruptor sidearm. Thankfully, it was on some kind of heavy stun setting, and he's been stabilized. I'm transmitting his coordinates to you now."

 _"Understood, Doctor."_

"Selar..."

 _"Yes, Doctor?"_

"Jeanette is still with Carmen in sickbay, right?"

 _"Yes, doctor. She is safe."_

Will watched as Beverly brought a trembling hand to her chin briefly then nodded. "Thank you, Crusher out."

If he expected her to look for solace, he was mistaken. As Worf and the medic disappeared in a transporter beam, she advanced on him, angrily waving her tricorder. "What kind of animal does that? Who _is_ this person?"

Riker paused and watched her carefully. "Beverly, we're in the Terran's universe," he reminded her gently. "He's Jean-Luc Picard. From _this_ universe."

She shook her head vehemently. "No. I refuse to accept that. He is nothing like Captain Picard." She raised her index finger as though prepared to start lecturing him, but instead she began to walk away. "I need to find Wesley."

He put a hand on her shoulder and she stopped, looking up at him with tense features. "Wes should be fine," he reassured her. "I had the officers' quarters on deck 10 evacuated."

She shook her head in confusion. "Why?"

"If I had to bet, I'd guess our intruder is going to try and make his way to the Captain's quarters. The way he just sauntered in here like he owned the place...well I have a feeling he's going to try and set up camp. Once he's in there, we'll try and shut him down and keep him contained. At least we have the numbers on our side..."

"Yes. But what the hell does he _want_?"

Riker scratched the side of his beard worriedly. "We'll see."

* * *

 ** _Corridor 10C_**

When Picard and Yar rounded the corner on deck 10, the security personnel were not far behind.

"Sir," Yar said, checking the tricorder. "The captain's quarters are this way. We're almost there!"

Picard threw one of the discs from the android's stolen bag in the middle of the corridor, as the group of officers caught up. The charge went off, blasting the lead man back into the others. Picard noted with dismay that the charge had done little but stun them all leaving them in a smoking heap on the deck.

"The weapons these humans use are useless...nearly," he complained before turning back to resume his jog alongside his security chief.

Yar nodded, but was studying the tricorder. "This area's pretty desolate. Looks like they evacuated before we got here."

"This Riker is clever," said the captain. "And he is attempting to read my next move. Oh, I love a good game." He slowed and tapped at his temple smiling devilishly. "But we shall see, Natasha...who is smarter."

"You are sir," Yar said without hesitation, tapping the still unfamiliar instrument in her palm. Down at the far end of the hallway, they observed a slender figure kneeling outside a door.

"That's it," said Tasha, pointing the way. "Those are the captain's quarters. But who's that?"

Picard smiled, and trained his weapon on the crouching figure. As they approached, the person seemed to be fiddling with some kind of contraption, before jumping up to run in the opposite direction. Without comment, Yar raced after the stranger, tackling him to the deck within a few seconds. Meanwhile, Picard sauntered closer to the door to his counterpart's quarters. There was a device of some kind sitting there.

Yar got to her feet, pulling the person she had just jumped up with her by the collar. She grinned. "Look who it is, sir..."

Picard approached with a thoughtful expression, folding his arms over his chest. "Young Wesley Crusher...how fortuitous! For me, not you, of course..."

The young man looked fearfully from Yar to the Captain and back again, and swung his arms wildly, in an attempt to pull free.

Picard nodded at Yar, who let the boy go, turning her disruptor his way.

Wesley back up against the wall, wide-eyed and clearly trying to think himself a way out of this.

"Now, lad, do tell," prompted Picard. "Were you trying to lay out a booby trap for us?"

Wesley stammered. "Uh...uh-"

Yar knelt down. "It's not an explosive device...looks like he was trying to set up a homemade force field, sir."

Picard laughed heartily. "Trying to keep us out, lad? That's the spirit!" His smile exited abruptly, as he scratched his beard pensively. "I give him high marks for effort, but what would you say about his execution, Natasha?"

"Fail," she said seriously, before firing her weapon and incinerating the small generator.

Picard nodded, and grabbed Wesley by the shoulder, guiding him toward the door. He tapped at the security panel.

 _Voice print Identification_ , said the computer.

"Jean-Luc Picard," said the captain easily. The doors swished open, and he pushed Wesley inside ahead of him.

* * *

Picard marched inside confidently, waving at Yar. "Sit him down in the center of the room. He's my bargaining chip."

Wesley gritted his teeth as Yar shoved him again, not too gently. He sat down cross-legged on the floor, not taking his eyes off the man who looked so eerily like Captain Picard, and yet was not. He'd heard the order to evacuate, that two intruders from the Terran ship were on the loose, and he somehow knew who it had to be. It was his fault that the captain-the real captain had been kidnapped, and he didn't intend to let the Terrans steal vital information or belongings from the captain's cabin. So he'd stayed behind, hoping that an old classroom experiment could be quickly modified to serve as a barrier to the captain's quarters. But he hadn't been fast enough. And once again, he'd blown it. All of a sudden his anger spilled over. "I don't know what you plan to do, but you won't get away with it," he shouted.

Picard had moved to a control panel and was typing quickly. "If he speaks again, stun him. I don't need the distraction."

"Aye sir," Yar said leaning over Wesley. "Go ahead and test me, kid," she whispered in his ear. "I've nearly died a dozen times in 24 hours and I haven't had a proper meal in three days. The slightest thing is going to set me off."

"Shh!" said Picard, still typing. "Computer, access all propulsion and weapons controls."

"Security code required."

He thought of the most obvious code possible. "Picard Alpha 1."

 _Palm print identification required_ , said the computer.

"Fine, fine," Picard grumbled, putting his hand against the panel.

The panel chattered. _Access denied._

He placed his palm on the panel again, but the same thing occurred. _Damn it._ "Computer, show all access override codes available, Captain's eyes only."

 _Access denied. Captain Picard has been reported missing in action. All command codes are now accessible only to Commander William T. Riker and Lieutenant Commander Geordi LaForge._

Picard raised his disruptor and slammed it onto the panel with a crash. The panel sputtered, and sparked. He stood there for a moment, collecting his thoughts, and calming his fury. The mere mention of LaForge still sent him into a rage. He blinked. He had to stay calm. Riker meant to trap him, get him off of his game. "Natasha, try the door. If I'm right, we're locked in." _But not for long._

He didn't turn around, but heard her swift footsteps cross the floor, then a characteristic curse. "We're locked in sir. Should I shoot the door?"

These humans were different. They weren't treacherous backstabbing traitors like his Terran colleagues, which meant they could be subjugated and bent to his will.

He rubbed the back of his neck where the Borg implant was stinging him again. It was then that he decided to try his back-up plan. Of course, he might as well go all the way. It was risky, but his risky moves had all paid off for him in the past, hadn't they?

"Prove to me you should have been an engineer, Natasha...find me an access cable. There should be one behind that panel over there."

She raised her disruptor, but he shouted at her. "No! Really, Tasha, you _must_ learn to curb your instinct to shoot everything. We're among _gentle_ people now...right Mr. Crusher?"

Wesley tightened his jaw and did his best to stare the man down. However, this seemed only to prompt amusement in Picard's Terran twin.

Yar had removed the access panel, and was pulling out wires. Finally, the lights flickered as she yanked one end of a larger cable from the wall. "Found one, Captain," she breathed, turning to him questioningly. Finally it dawned on her what he intended on doing. "Sir...it's too risky."

"The biggest risks bring even bigger rewards, Tasha," he said, stepping closer. Grabbing the free end of the cable, he turned with his back to the wall and closed his eyes tightly, before plunging the wire into the back of his neck. The searing pain was overwhelming, and he thought he smelled the skin on the back of his neck searing before he slumped back into the wall and blacked out.

* * *

 **Elsewhere on the bridge...**

 _Warning, life support systems compromised._

"Code blue," Riker shouted, getting to his feet. "LaForge, report, is this the computer virus?"

" _All systems are offline! Commander, someone has just tapped into our main computer system,"_ replied LaForge. _"And whoever he is, he's not letting go."_

"It's the Terrans, Geordi, get control back. Now!"


	52. Chapter 52

**Chapter 51**

* * *

 _ **USS Enterprise**_

 **Deck 10, The Captain's Cabin**

The lights in the room dimmed, and a blue burst of electricity swept outward from the wall as Picard slumped forward unconscious.

 _Warning...life support protocols are non-functional...systems failure is imminent on decks 10 through 16. Warning._

"What is he _doing_?" Wesley shouted, jumping to his feet and rushing at the Captain. Yar thrust out her leg, sweeping the teen off of his feet. He landed with a thud on his back. Yar stood over him with the disruptor leveled at his chest.

"He's taking over this ship, kid. The Enterprise in any universe is his for the taking. Now leave the captain alone, or I won't hesitate to shoot you."

Wesley stood up defiantly, unable to look beyond the image of the woman who he had been friends with so long ago, and see that he was facing an enemy. "Tasha, you can't do this! I know you don't want to do thi-"

He didn't have time to finish his words, because she fired the sidearm on stun, dropping him instantly. "I warned you," she murmured before turning back to the captain.

She crouched down and swept her bangs out of her eyes, trying to assess her options. Rivulets of blue energy seemed to course beneath the skin of his face. "He's really made the connection," she whispered to herself. _Is this what the Borg intended this implant to do?_ Tasha knew if she waited too long he might die. His decision to try and use the Borg implant in his neck to interface with the ship had been extremely risky. However, if she removed the connection too soon he would be furious with her. He'd brought her along to be useful to him, and she intended to fulfill that purpose at any cost.

 _Life support systems for Decks 10 through 16 have stabilized. All control has been centralized. Awaiting further instruction from Captain Picard._

 _"_ He did it!" She blurted out, though no one could hear her.

Excitedly, Yar leaped forward to remove the connection, careful not to damage the tender skin around the metallic port on the back of his neck. Once he was free, he fell forward, but she caught him before he hit the deck and gently lowered him down. He immediately curled into a fetal position, twitching as though in a seizure. This went on for a few long minutes until his breathing slowed, and he stretched out his legs and rolled onto his back. He opened one eye slowly to look up at Yar, and gave her the thumbs up sign. "Success," he whispered, breaking into a grin. She grasped his hand in hers and shouted up at the ceiling in triumph.

* * *

 **Meanwhile on the Bridge...**

Geordi LaForge came bursting out of the turbo lift at a sprint. Commander Riker had called him up to the bridge because it appeared the Terrans were attempting to sabotage the _Enterprise_ computer, which was already compromised by an unknown virus, possibly contracted by contact with the Borg cube. The ship's computer was currently operating as though it wasn't receiving commands when it did receive them, it was jumping to conclusions, and not always the correct ones.

"What just happened, Geordi?" Riker shouted over the piercing wail of a perimeter alarm which had inexplicably been sounding for the last few minutes.

Geordi's hands flew over the controls at the back science station. "Let me shut that alarm off," he said, and after another moment of coaxing the computer, he managed to bring silence back to the bridge. "Damn it," he muttered to himself in frustration. He continued to try and assess the situation, when it suddenly became clear. "How the hell..." he turned to look over his shoulder at Riker, who had moved to stand behind him. "Commander...we've lost decks 10 through 16."

"Lost them?" Riker moved forward, leaning his hand on the wall next to the console. "Explain."

"Well our ship's computer is not recognizing the positronic systems throughout those levels as part of the ship's matrix."

"Do we have life support on those levels?"

"Yes...but, all controls for those decks have now been re-routed to...to the Captain's quarters, sir," he finished, looking with alarm at Riker.

"It's the Terrans," said Will darkly. "They've been on board less than an hour and they've already found a way to get control of a third of our ship. Geordi, we need to figure out how to shut these people down before it's too late."

* * *

 _ **IMS Contagion**_

The floor of the prison cell was covered in blood. And yet the man who she had condemned to death was still alive. For now. The man remaining inside looked just like Jack, her old lover and ally turned sworn enemy. Now, as far as she could tell he had colluded with Jean-Luc to stage an escape to the Lesser Enterprise.

Jack's twin shifted his position standing against the far wall, cradling the superficial injuries Jean-Luc had left him with. It was all show, and no substance. Beverly had given Jean-Luc a chance for revenge and redemption, and he had thrown that opportunity back in her face. And now, what were his plans on the Lesser Enterprise? Why speculate? Not important. What was important now was to carry through with her plans to overthrow the Emperor, and she certainly did not need Picard for that. The problem remained that as long as Jean-Luc was not under her watch, he was more vulnerable to capture by the Borg. And with his overblown ego he wasn't exactly given to keeping a low profile. She would consider whether he was worth trusting in the future, but for now, she would do her best to put him out of her mind.

Jack slid his feet on the dirty floor, and she raised her piercing gaze to his sheepish one. Beverly had heard the man speak, and she didn't care to hear anything more from him at this time. So she turned to leave the cell.

"Wait!"

She wordlessly watched him, wondering if it would just be better if she put him out of his misery and eliminate him now. Why allow him to plot with Picard right under her nose. He had maintained his original story-that he was not the real Jack, and she tended to believe him now. At least, he was not the Jack she had known for years before banishing him to suffer and die in the Ferengi territories. Perhaps he was the Lesser version of Jack. According to this man, the real Jack was still alive and plotting against her. If Jack was truly back, nothing good come come from that. She raised her chin to look at him with open disdain. "Do you have a request?"

"I know what you're thinking," M said quickly. "You're considering killing me. Well, I want you to know that's not a good idea."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Picard told me about your daughter. And I can help you avenge her. All we have to do is track down Jack. And you can't do that without me."

Her expression impassive, she turned and walked briskly out of the detention area.

* * *

 ** _USS Enterprise_**

When Riker entered the main cargo bay, he was again struck by the silence. It was only the second time he'd been here since the survivors from the five ships had been beamed aboard, rescued during the Borg incident. Data and T'Pel had been monitoring the group of survivors who were oddly grouped in the middle of the cargo bay. Now only the Vulcan scientist remained. She stood silently monitoring the life signs of the assimilated crew members, and didn't look up when he approached. He walked closer and stood next to her staring at the data panel she was reviewing.

He crossed his arms, trying to focus on the important work there was to do, keeping these people alive. Captain Picard was for the time being, gone. But it wasn't the first time he'd had to operate without the Captain. Certainly, facing off with Locutus had changed him, challenged everything he knew about tactical strategy, and especially his own inner workings. Now just months after facing down a Borg cube on the brink of an Earth invasion, he was facing the Borg yet again...or at least their counterparts in this universe. He was faced with a dilemma; track down the missing ships with the officers who were assimilated, but very likely alive, or chase down the Contagion and rescue the captain.

Will finally turned to regard the stoic woman. "Captain Picard has been captured by the Terrans. And Data is with him..."

T'Pel paused her calculations. "That is unfortunate."

"Yes. I thought, given your history serving with the Captain you would want to know." He decided to leave out the part about the two Terrans currently at-large on the ship, and the problems with the computer. _One damn problem at a time._ The survivors of Borg assimilation were important and needed the best care and attention. Right now, that came in the form of T'Pel.

"Thank you, commander."

An awkward silence followed, and so Riker turned his attention to the assimilated crew.

"How are they?" He stared into the energy field, where over one hundred of the assimilated officers stood silently, or milled around in an aimless manner.

"They are in a kind of stasis," she said. "With Data's collaboration we programmed a subspace communication on a loop to the assimilated survivors. They are being instructed to await orders from the Collective. Captain Picard was very wise to flood the area with tetryons, as it replicates very well the inner atmosphere of a Borg cube. Meanwhile the energy field is providing them with sustenance."

"So they don't need to eat?"

"Not in the same way we do. Remember they are no longer fully organic lifeforms."

"So they're mostly safe for the moment?"

"Yes. However, some have...expired."

Riker glanced at her sharply. "What?"

"Five individuals were reduced to ash during the first few hours on board."

He exhaled and closed his eyes for a moment. "Theories about why?"

"Our program was created during an emergency. It is likely those individuals sensed immediately the destruction of the cube before we could block their awareness."

"So we're lying to them..."

"Yes."

"If Data were here we could figure this out." He smiled tightly at the scientist. "I know this is asking a lot of you...and you're certainly not obligated to continue helping us-"

"Commander," she interrupted him mildly. "I am for the moment trapped in an alternate universe along with every other member of this crew. It is only logical that I should assist with our escape."

"Which brings me to the subject of the ion stations...we need to locate another one so we can travel back home. The one we accessed was destroyed during the Borg attack."

"I will assist where possible, Commander," agreed T'Pel.

Riker nodded. "Thank you. At this point I can use all the help I can get."

"That is clear."

* * *

 **Hey! Thanks for your readership...have a nice weekend, friends. -PP**


	53. Chapter 53

**Chapter 52**

 ** _IMS Contagion_**

Jean-Luc opened one eye at the sound of a door hissing open. He'd woken up once before, but he hadn't fully realized where he was. He wasn't back in the same cold cell, that much was clear. The air was warm, and smelled oddly fresh, and the lighting was softer, not as harsh. His head ached terribly, and he recalled being stunned and then assaulted by his Terran counterpart before ending up here. His mind flashed back to seeing Data stunned on the deck. "Data," he rasped. Where had they taken him? He pushed himself upward, and realized he was on a thickly carpeted floor.

"You were stunned twice with a disruptor and at some point were struck in the left side of your head by that very same weapon," said a completely familiar and yet strange voice. He sat up, just as Beverly Crusher walked into his hazy periphery.

He attempted to move backwards, but he was sluggish and not thinking clearly. She smiled and leaned down, reaching out to touch his temple. She traced her fingers lightly over the lump, and he winced and jerked his head away.

"Touchy," she said with a raised eyebrow. "Relax," she said, and though the sentiment was nice, it definitely sounded like an order.

" _Relax_? I am your prisoner, and you think I should relax?"

She shrugged. "Suit yourself." She straightened and walked over to a wooden cabinet. He glanced around, surprised at the opulence of what he now assumed were her quarters.

She stood facing away from him, but he glanced away, decidedly uncomfortable with this turn of events. "Why don't you return me to my cell?"

When she turned back around she was sipping out of an elegant glass. "The one you escaped from like a frightened rabbit? Now why would you want to go back there?"

"Well, if you are so concerned with my freedom, you should return me to my ship," he said stiffly.

She laughed and it sounded somehow both musical and threatening, as she put the glass down. "We left the sector as soon as we had warp capability again. Your precious ship has been left far behind."

With some effort he was able to get on all fours and then push himself unsteadily to his feet. "Then turn _your_ ship around and bring me back to mine."

She tilted her head, watching him sway slightly as he stood there. "Is that an order, Captain? Because in this universe I happen to outrank you."

He said nothing, just scratched the new layer of stubble on his cheek and tried to remain standing through a pounding headache.

"That must hurt your ego," she suggested. "Or are you used to taking orders from me in another universe as well?" she smiled at him.

It was his turn to laugh, but he quickly shut his mouth, still unsure how much he wanted to engage with this person.

There was a cold glint in her eye, and it was clear to him who had the bigger ego in the room. And she didn't like to be laughed at. "Why do you laugh? Surely there is a Beverly Crusher in your universe."

"Yes, but she's not you, and you are not her." He saw a chair nearby, and took a few side steps, grabbing the top of it, before he lowered himself into it painfully.

Without hesitation, she rolled another chair over to face him, and sat down in it, now just feet away from him. "Really...how interesting. So how am I different from her?"

He rubbed his chin uncertainly, and tried to roll his chair backward, but she rolled her own forward slightly in pursuit. "She's not as beautiful as I am?" she unclasped her coat with one hand, and it fell open to reveal her low cut uniform top.

He shifted his eyes away uncomfortably. "She is...different."

She shrugged slightly. "Fair enough. After all...you're quite different from my Jean-Luc. Although, I have wondered," she said suddenly sliding her chair forward again. "Just how similar you really are to him," she said, placing her hand on his thigh.

He grabbed her hand from his leg. "What are you doing?"

She smiled and stood up again. "Well...I guess that answers my question," she said looking down at him. "You're not like him at all."

She walked away, and took off her coat, tossing it on her bed. "Or maybe you are. After all, you did lie to me."

"I don't know what you're talking about." He just raised his eyebrows and shook his head slightly, feeling somewhat relieved that she had put some distance between them.

"You let me believe that this man who dragged you onto the _Contagion_ was really Jack. Now, why would you do that? Are you conspiring against me?"

"I did not come on board of my own free will, Admiral. And you believed what you wanted to."

"Perhaps I _should_ lock you up again."

 _She is utterly paranoid._ "Fine," he said simply. The lines were so much clearer to him when he was inside a prison cell.

To his surprise she approached again with a glass of water, and handed it to him. He drank thirstily, not even considering until he had begun, that it might be suspect. But no, it seemed just to be crisp, clean water.

She watched him drink and narrowed her eyes. "But not yet. You'll stay here for now. But I have rules. And the first one is that you need to take a shower and change out of that strange-"

"Starfleet uniform?"

She looked amused. "Starfleet? Is that what you call it? How interesting." She moved toward a dresser along the wall and touched it. One of the drawers popped out and she pulled out a shiny gold uniform. "We'll see if it fits you, as well as it did Geordi," she said tossing it to him. He nearly spit out his water, at the mention of LaForge, but caught the uniform with one hand.

She grabbed her coat again and twirled it over her shoulder, as she moved through the room. "I have business to attend to. Make yourself at home," she said as she stepped out of the room.

* * *

 ** _IMS Stargazer-Romulan Re-fit_**

"So you're in some kind of Romulan worship cult, is that right Dad? I mean, everyone knows the Romulans were wiped out before any of us on this ship were even born."

"That's what you were told, Wes," said Jack.

"It's what we _all_ were told," Geordi insisted.

It doesn't make it true."

"They are _extinct!_ " Wesley shouted into his father's face.

Jack closed his eyes momentarily. "So...the only thing that will convince you is seeing a Romulan with your own eyes?"

"You're damn right," said Wes. "So make it happen...call up one of your Romulan guys on screen right now. Come on, Dad, what are you waiting for?"

Jack shook his head with a small smile. "It doesn't work like that. If I contact them before we have the Emperor's head, then the whole deal is off."

"And you can't tell us what the whole deal actually is," said LaForge.

"Now you're getting it."

"I'm _getting_ that you are crazy. Everyone on this damn ship is crazy except for me," confirmed the engineer. "Besides, even if the Romulans existed, they're sneaky, they average three meters tall, and they have immense horns on their heads-"

Jack laughed loudly at that. "Horror stories told to young Terrans...they're not like that at all. I know... I've met one."

"Just one?" Wesley taunted.

Pots leaned his greasy elbows on the table in front of him. "Actually Boss...there were two guys-"

Jack stopped his pacing whirled around, and slammed his fist on the table in front of the over-sized human. "There were _not_ two guys, you idiot, now shut up."

"Um, okay, whatever you say," the mechanic said, lumbering up out of his seat. "I'm gonna go find something to eat."

LaForge moved distastefully out of the way as the man passed by, wrinkling his nose. Once Pots disappeared around the corner, Geordi hooked his thumb to the side. "Where did you find that guy?"

Jack smiled coldly. "The Lesser Universe. They have all kinds of interesting things, believe me."

LaForge laughed sharply. "I hope he's not the best they have to offer."

"Shut up," snarled Jack.

LaForge leaned against the wall, and crossed his ankles. "Make me."

Wesley threw up his hands. "Come on guys...seriously. Listen, Dad we need more details."

"And I need to know what's in it for me," Geordi clarified. "I mean-"

"We've been over this," Jack sputtered. "We need to stop the Borg."

Geordi held out his palm look at Wesley more directly. "He's lying Wesley. I can see it all over him. And more than that, he's scared shitless of someone, or something."

Wesley shrugged. "Geordi...what if it really _is_ the Romulans?"

Jack sighed and got up out of his chair. "I don't care whether you believe me or not. But this is my ship, and we are going to Terra. And once we're there, you won't have a goddamn choice but to help me."


	54. Chapter 54

**Chapter 53**

 _ **ISS Enterprise**_

William Riker lightly stroked the hair of the woman who was sitting on his right thigh. Meanwhile, behind him, another woman was skillfully massaging his shoulders. He had been enjoying the pleasant sensations when the intercom beeped. Immediately irritated, his eyes snapped open. "What is it?"

 _"Sir, we've got a very interesting development happening down here in in the computer core."_

"By interesting, I certainly hope you mean 'good'."

 _"Maybe...sir. First, of all our systems have been repaired."_

"Well, that's definitely good."

 _"But we don't know why or how, sir. The ship seemed to just...regenerate itself."_

 _"_ Fascinating. Sometimes it's just better not to question a good thing." He leaned in to kiss the woman who continued to lounge in his lap. "Right?" he murmured. She smiled and kissed him back, aware that as a Terran it was often better to smile seductively than to answer questions.

 _"Additionally...the computer core has been reinforcing our structural integrity field to twenty times its previous strength. And that's really strange, because with only impulse capability, we shouldn't need much of a field."_

The woman behind him stopped massaging, momentarily. "Really?" Riker asked, disbelievingly. Activity on the bridge was suddenly muted, as every officer was straining to hear the technician's report. "And? What the hell does that mean?"

 _"The stronger the structural integrity field, the more capable a ship is of traveling at a high warp velocity."_

"Right, but as you just said, we've got no warp core without the star drive, so...just how fast can we go?"

 _"Well, judging by the computer's latest message we'll have transwarp capability within the hour. So...real fast."_

Riker and the anonymous woman on his lap looked at each other at the same time. "Wow, this is gonna be so _great_ ," he said breaking into a broad grin.

* * *

 _ **Many parsecs away on the IMS Contagion...**_

She tried to remember...she'd been with Yar and that Klingon prisoner on the Star Drive, and there had been some kind of violent event. She squeezed her eyes shut. It didn't matter what had happened. All that mattered was that Picard had set her up, and because she had survived, she would have her revenge. But there was a new problem to contend with. Something was very different, and not in a good way. Her abilities were muted somehow.

Despite all of this, Deanna Troi finally opened her eyes. She knew already who was there of course, which meant she still had the ability to sense, if nothing more. She could still read Beverly's mind, but the ability to harm Crusher was elusive. Still, for the first time in days, she felt strong enough to manage facing her most hated enemy.

Beverly Crusher's gloating smile shimmered above her. "How does it feel? Being so weak...?" The woman sat perched with one leg on Troi's recovery bed, the other dangling off the side.

"I would think you would _know_ ," murmured Troi. "How soon we forget our own humble beginnings."

Crusher laughed and pushed herself away from Troi's bedside. "You'll find your powers have dissipated significantly," she said watching Troi slyly. "Only time will tell if your condition will be permanent."

Troi sat up, and rubbed her temple. Her head was throbbing. "I suppose I have you to thank for that, you evil bitch."

Beverly smiled, not surprised, or bothered at all by the comment. "They say it takes one to know one...anyway, you had a nasty crack on the head and I didn't have to do a thing to you. This was perfectly fine with me, since I had my hands quite _full_ what with Picard, his unhinged sidekick Yar, an unprovoked attack by the _USS Stargazer_ returned inexplicably from some galactic junkyard, a goddamn Borg cube, and last but not least, your friends from the Lesser Universe."

Troi kept her thoughts as calm as possible. _The Borg. How unfortunate and unexpected._ She could glean from Crusher's thoughts that the Lesser ships she'd captured had succumbed to the Borg. The Star Drive, diced up and carted away by the brainless automatons...back to Terra, perhaps. And Riker? He was missing...with the Enterprise. _This fool thinks I'm weak, but once again she has gravely miscalculated._ " _My_ friends. Beverly, dear, you should know by now I have no friends, nor do I have need for any."

"Fair enough. But rumor has it, you are responsible for those Lesser ships arriving in our territory..."

"A rumor started no doubt by Captain Picard. And we all know that you never could get enough of his lies. And he could never get enough of your...well, we can skip the details I think. I'm feeling nauseous as it is."

"But it's not a lie this time, is it? You and Riker had something planned for those ships."

Deanna shook her head. "Why do you care? You would like to see us gone, just as much as we'd like to leave!"

"Running away, just when things are getting nasty, Deanna? Why, that's not like you." Beverly watched her rival carefully. "As I mentioned, there have been...developments. Riker has absconded with what's left of the Enterprise, and you're not going anywhere. The Borg are on the move. The bottom line is, I haven't decided what to do with you yet. You may still be useful."

"You will _not_ use me!" Enraged, Troi suddenly grabbed the bed covers and hurled them at Beverly, who stepped out of the way, looking more amused than anything. She stooped down and picked up the blanket, tossing it into a nearby bin. She just could not abide untidiness in her sick bay.

"A guard will be here in 20 minutes to escort you to your cell," said Crusher. "When I am Emperor-"

She was cut off briefly by Troi's harsh laughter, but remained unflappable.

"When I am Emperor I could use an enforcer...and as much as we despise each other, we're both professionals. I know your head isn't so scrambled that you will reject my proposal without giving it serious consideration first," she added before walking out.

Troi rubbed her aching head, and began to consider her options.

* * *

Beverly walked into the lab, and found Reginald Barclay oddly straddling an inert shape on the operating table. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything, Mr. Barclay. I know you haven't been lucky in love...ever, but really...have some class."

Barclay slid off the table, and adjusted his floppy hair. "I-have-haven't been able to turn him on, Admiral."

Beverly sighed. "Sometimes it seems I have to do _everything_ around here." She walked over to the table. "Here, help me turn him onto his stomach." Together they pushed the deactivated yet heavy android over. She casually waved her hand over Data's lower back, flipping a cleverly hidden switch. Data's eyes immediately fluttered open.

She took a few steps back, for safety's sake, but this version of Data, she remembered was unlikely to be violent and calculating. This _was_ his Lesser version, of course.

Data's head jerked from side to side quickly, and he seemed to be assessing his surroundings.

Crusher circled. "Now that I've captured you trying to sabotage my ship, android... what shall I do with you? Oh, there are so many possibilities!"

"Where is Captain Picard?"

Beverly stopped pacing. "Wouldn't you like to know..."

"Yes, I would," replied Data. "I am concerned for his safety."

"Well...perhaps he's safe, or perhaps he's not. Either way it doesn't truly matter to you, does it? You have no real feelings, no _real_ attachments."

"Nevertheless," said Data, sitting up. "Where is the captain?"

Beverly stood silently surveying Data for a few moments. "In this universe our version of _you_ has caused a great deal of trouble, Mr. Data. In a few short months he has begun the downfall of this great empire, by allowing the Borg to infiltrate our ranks, and _assimilate_ our people and technology."

"That is unfortunate," said Data. "We have encountered the Borg in our universe as well."

"And yet you are still operating at optimal efficiency I see, despite having encountered the Borg and having been shot by Mr. Barclay and my guards."

"Yes."

"I can tell you that the same is not true for _our_ Data. From what I hear, he's quite a sad sight to see."

"That is unfortunate," said Data, standing up.

"For him," Beverly clarified with a thin smile.

Data flexed his right hand, looking down at it briefly. Some of his neuro functions had in fact been compromised by the weapon used to incapacitate him. He had briefly reunited with Captain Picard only to be waylaid by Captain Picard's Terran version, as well as the Terran Tasha Yar. He had been unable to prevent them from harming Captain Picard. Now, it seemed the Captain was still on board this ship. Whether he was in good health or not, was still unclear. "I must speak with Captain Picard."

"You'll find I don't respond well to demands. You invaded _my_ ship."

"My only purpose was to rescue the captain."

"Were you created with a nobility program? How clever."

"Since you disfavor demands, I respectfully request that you allow us to return to our ship."

Beverly looked at Barclay and shook her head. "These Lesser versions of us tend to repeat their dull requests and boring declarations of honor, don't they?" She turned back to Data. "Your Captain said the same thing, Data. But we left your crippled ship behind several sectors ago."

"So he is alive then," Data sought to confirm.

"For now," she allowed. "As I mentioned I haven't decided what to do with you yet, and the same goes for him. Unlike some of my contemporaries I like to think things through before selecting the most effective use for a person...or an android." _I could dismantle him, reprogram him...I could even introduce a virus into his system and use him to replace our Emperor, fooling the Borg. But, there is no need to rush when all the best cards are so suddenly being dealt my way._

"In our universe, using individuals without their consent is highly disfavored, and unethical."

"So I've gathered. But you're not in your universe anymore, are you?"


	55. Chapter 55

**Chapter 54**

 _ **USS Enterprise**_

Phillipa Louvois was in the turbo lift when Commander Riker announced a ship-wide emergency. Honestly, too much had happened since she had first brought a supposed Jack Crusher on board for "re-integration" into Federation society. Too much. And as far as she could tell, things were not getting any better. Captain Picard had been kidnapped, and she was beginning to lose hope. So when the turbo lift halted, and the lights and power went down, she wasn't even surprised. What was problematic was that once the power and lights blinked back on, the turbo lift refused to move. She was beginning to see that perhaps the bridge was currently the safest place to be, so she said "Deck one." Instead, the computer responded "Deck 13", and the lift doors opened to a chaotic scene.

Louvois stepped cautiously out into the corridor. Crowds of mostly civilians were milling around looking confused, children were crying, while several young officers tried to maintain order and calm. The air was quite stuffy, and warmer than it should have been. She approached an officer who appeared to be a security officer. "What's going on, Lieutenant?"

The anxious young man turned to face her. The front of his uniform was blackened as though he'd been in some kind of battle. He appeared annoyed until he saw the pips on her collar. "Sir," he said, with instant relief. "Something's gone wrong with decks 10 through 16, and the crew is starting to panic."

"Well we can't let that happen," she said, hitting her communicator. "Louvois to Riker." Her communicator buzzed ineffectually. She addressed the young lieutenant again. "What's your name, Lieutenant? And please don't tell me your communicator is broken too..."

"Lieutenant Singh, Captain. We've just discovered our communicators are only functional between decks 10 through 16. We can't communicate with anyone outside of those decks, and so we've been effectively cut off from command. Some kind of subspace interference outside of that range."

"And the lifts as well?"

He nodded, stepping aside as a mother and child hurried by them. "The lifts are operating between decks 10 through 16, Captain. That's it."

"Have you tried site to site transport?"

"As far as we can tell all utility transporters have been rendered either non-functional or inaccessible."

"Theories?"

"I was part of a security team that chased two Terran intruders onto deck 10. The leader set off a charge and stopped us just outside the officers quarters, which is now completely blocked off by shielding. We think he's found some way to gain control of these decks. The status of the rest of our ship is unknown."

"How do we know they were Terrans?"

"The leader looked just like Captain Picard." Abruptly, the intercom beeped.

 _"Attention crew, this is Captain Jean-Luc Picard speaking. I am sure that you have missed the sound of my voice, as much as I've missed having a completely loyal and obedient crew. That is all I ask of you... your complete and unquestioning loyalty to me. You are free to continue your duties as normal until further notice. Meanwhile, keep in mind that I have full control of the environmental conditions on decks 10 through 16. Eventually, I will have control of the entire ship. Join me now, and there will be no need for further violence. Picard out."_

* * *

Picard swiveled around slowly in his chair. "Well, Natasha? How was I? Did I sound like someone who enjoys the sound of his own voice? Because I do."

"I'm sure you gave them a few things to think about, Captain," Yar suggested. "But shouldn't I go out on patrol and ensure they are kept in line?"

Picard shook his head. "Not yet. Let's ensure you have the proper protections first. Don't forget, Yar, these people killed your counterpart. They will probably attempt the same with you, if they see you out wandering."

There was a groan behind them as Wesley Crusher pushed himself up from the floor groggily. "It's not true," he said. "Tasha Yar was murdered by an alien on an away mission."

"I thought you stunned him properly," Picard accused Yar.

She powered up her disruptor again. "Sorry, sir, he's so skinny I used a weaker setting for fear of killing him."

Picard put his hand on the disruptor and she lowered it. "Never mind," he said. "What was that you said, boy?"

"I said we didn't kill Tasha. She died on an away team mission. She was our friend."

Picard winked at Yar. "How touching! How absolutely heartbreaking."

"What have you done to our ship?" Wesley demanded.

Picard laughed. " _Our_ ship? Why, my boy, a ship belongs to her captain...which is me!"

Wesley struggled to get to his feet. "You're not Captain Picard."

"The ship seems to think that I am. And if I'm not Picard, then who am I?"

"How did you manage to get control?"

Picard got to his feet. "All in good time, lad, all in good time." He walked toward the young man, putting a fatherly hand on his shoulder. "But watch your tone. Yar here is very trigger happy, and I have an almost impossibly low tolerance for whining."

* * *

 _ **IMS Contagion**_

When Beverly stepped into her quarters, she knew immediately that something was wrong, because the light levels had been tampered with. Expecting the worst, she grabbed her agonizer from her belt, just as the dark figure attempted to shove past her through the still open door. Thrown slightly off balance, she thrust the agonizer against the man's abdomen. He fell writhing to the floor, and she stepped back, holstering the nerve weapon. "Lights," she commanded, and the lights came back on.

Picard lay curled in a protective position on the floor with his hands between his knees. His eyes were shut tightly and his face was contorted in pain.

"Oh, did I aim too low?" she asked with mock concern.

He seemed unable to speak, so she walked away from him. "Was that your first experience with an agonizer? Well, I could apologize for hitting you below the belt, but then if you hadn't been in such a rush to escape, this never would have happened. Don't worry," she continued, pouring herself a drink. "The pain goes away eventually, with minimal damage to the nerve endings. Of course, if you need medical follow-up, you're in good hands."

He dragged himself to a sitting position, and tried to steady his erratic breathing, as the fire in his nether regions began to mercifully dissipate. "Why are you keeping us here? Where is my officer?"

"The android? He's in my cybernetics lab. I just couldn't resist the temptation to take him apart," she lied easily.

Picard crawled over to a nearby wall, to prop himself up. Had she really dismantled Data? "You have so little respect for life, I don't know why I bother to even try and converse with you on a civilized level."

She downed the drink and slammed it down on the counter top. " _Well..._ you think I'm uncivilized, do you?" She smiled. "You don't know the half of it."

"You certainly drink a significant amount of alcohol," he said. "I gather you must find it difficult to live with yourself."

She sat down on a chair, and leaned forward, hands clasped. " _You_ should be more concerned about the difficulties of living with me, Captain, as you are my prisoner. I am known for making life difficult for those around me, for as long as I allow them to live."

"I think you truly have no idea what to do with me," he pressed. "Events are spiraling out of control, and you are beginning to question your ability to stop them."

She laughed and stood up gracefully. She eyed him for a few more seconds, and he was having difficulty interpreting her gaze. She had a temper to be sure, but her self-control was clearly well-trained. "You didn't change your uniform," she said. "I certainly hope you at least cleaned yourself."

"I'm not here for your amusement," he said hoarsely, leaning his head back against the wall.

"We'll see about that," she warned.


	56. Chapter 56

**Chapter 55**

 _ **Enterprise Main Shuttle Bay**_

T'Pel sat motionless in a utility alcove, her brown cloak folded neatly underneath her on the cold deck. The alcove provided a reprieve from the open floor of the main shuttle bay. She had decided to move her sleeping area to the shuttle bay. After Commander Riker had announced that decks ten through sixteen were restricted, her guest quarters were no longer available on account of Terran saboteurs infiltrating the ship's computer core by unknown means. While T'Pel was aware that Captain Picard's Terran version was responsible for this event, she was one of few outside of Decks 10 through 16 who knew the truth. Riker seemed to think it unnecessary and problematic if the majority of the crew knew the identity of this person.

Now travel within the ship required site to site transport where the turbo lifts were unavailable. The decks now under Terran control were the most populous decks, housing the crew and officers quarters, holodecks, entertainment areas and main sick bay. Approximately six hundred of the ship's crew, mostly civilians, were now seemingly trapped in these decks, but since no communication was possible, the exact nature of what was happening was not known. This had caused considerable distress among the human crew, but T'Pel was not human, and was not distressed. She was...concerned. T'Pel didn't require much sleep anyway, but she was certainly fatigued, given that her duties of keeping watch over the Borg survivors had been largely uninterrupted for several days now. So she had elected to meditate both to obtain rest and to contemplate the sudden absence of Captain Picard and appearance of his Terran counterpart. Because she was on the verge of wakefulness, she heard the shuffling and opened her eyes. She then rose to her feet, stepping out into the open.

The subspace field was down, and the Borg survivors were freely shuffling their mechanical boots around the shuttle bay. T'Pel moved swiftly to her control station, and found that the field had not malfunctioned, but nevertheless was no longer doing its job. She immediately sent a warning subspace signal to the bridge. Unable to prevent the assimilated Starfleet officers from resuming their collective march, she settled for observing them, and typing those observations into a makeshift report, while she watched them move to various computer panels around the bay and begin plugging in.

* * *

 ** _The IMS Contagion_**

"If you're not here for my amusement, Captain, I suggest you make a real effort to discover your true purpose. Because you are going to be here indefinitely." She stood above him now, holding out her hand. He stared up at her with a calm yet defiant gaze.

"Get up off of the floor, this is embarrassing for a person of your rank," she said, still offering her hand. He continued to stare up at her silently. Eventually she dropped her hand to her side with a sobering look. "So you _are_ like him. A damn stubborn _fool_."

"I am _nothing_ like him."

"You are...you see he wouldn't have taken my hand either-unless promised my affections, of course. But you are like him, completely unwilling to give up even a perceived advantage. You _want_ to get up from the floor, but you're unwilling to accept my help. You think that if you do, you will have lost ground somehow."

"Nonsense," he said, watching her walk away. She stopped, but remained facing away from him as though considering which direction to walk in.

"Some might refer to what you Picards display as dignity, but I recognize it for what it really is. Plain arrogance." He remained silent, just watching her familiarly mesmerizing shape, until finally she turned and pointed at him. "I know you," she declared. At that moment she looked and sounded so much like the Beverly he knew that he froze, if only momentarily.

She walked out of the room then, and he sat for a few minutes, heart pounding, pondering his next move. He had to find a way to effectively engage her. She was a scientist, and it was his hope that even a scientist in this universe could be convinced to see reason. He considered the Borg problem. The Borg remained a threat to his universe and he could not deny that fact. If the Borg assimilated Terran technology it would present not only a threat to the Terrans, but to the Federation as well.

The Borg had recognized him as Locutus when the Enterprise had encountered the Borg inside this alternate universe; therefore either the Borg existed in different dimensions, just as humans did, or the Borg simply traversed across dimensions with ease. It was possible that the Borg had learned to do so, through their abundant use of Transwarp drive. If, due to his previous abduction he had come to understand the mentality of the Borg hive mind in _his_ universe, then he was similarly of use to Admiral Crusher to oppose the Borg in her universe...although she did not know it yet. There were risks of course, for if she found him to be useful, she really might try to keep him indefinitely, which was certainly not his goal. But if he somehow convinced her they could work together against the Borg...at least long enough to recapture the lost crews, it might be in his favor to offer his guidance to the Terran admiral. Whether she would ever be willing to accept his guidance was another story entirely.

* * *

As he ruminated, he began to smell freshly cooked food, and the thought of feeling just a little better after having something to eat, motivated him to move. She must have replicated something to eat. Well aware that she had probably anticipated that he would follow her, he braced his back against the wall and stood up stiffly. He was no longer in pain from the waist down, but instead he felt uncomfortably numb. Taking a deep breath, he pushed away from the wall and found that he could walk, and did so in the direction she'd gone in.

She was waiting for him with at least the appearance of patience in her expression, her hands resting on the back of an elegant wooden chair. "You recover quickly. A good sign, Captain." She gestured in a friendly way that was almost convincing as she slowly pulled the chair out. "Sit down."

Highly suspicious, despite his hunger, he remained standing. A single enticing plate of food was on her dining table, which to his surprise was immense. It was clear that she must have entertained people in her quarters, a concept which he found somewhat curious.

"That'll be all, Jenice," Crusher said, speaking to someone behind him. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a slim shape flitting by him. His head jerked around, surprised to see another woman hurrying away from them out of the room. He caught only a glimpse of a distantly familiar curl of blonde hair as she whisked by him. But before she disappeared, she turned and she saw her face clearly, and it gave him a chill. Aside from a long scar down her right cheek she was as beautiful as ever.

He looked over at Beverly with open shock. "Jenice...?"

"Jenice Bertrand, formerly Jenice Manheim, wife of the ill-fated but brilliant Dr. Paul Manheim? Yes, that's her."

Even as he finally sat down, Picard was internally reeling as she continued, and she seemed to find his discomfort amusing. "Did you actually think I was going to cook you dinner?" She brought her hand to her lips, and looked ready to burst into laughter. Gradually she sobered. "Jenice is my personal chef and assistant, you see. She keeps an eye on my private affairs, in the process ensuring that she doesn't have time for _any_ affairs of her own." Apparently intending to emphasize her point, she pulled a long thin knife from seemingly nowhere and placed carefully it down next to his plate. "Understand?"

He eyed her. "I don't know what you're suggesting, but it sounds like a threat. Let me assure you, I have no interest in anyone's affairs. I simply want to be permitted to leave this ship peacefully."

She continued to gaze at him with a slightly menacing smile, and she seemed to be thinking about a past he could only imagine. "Did you see the look on her face when she saw you? I would say she still loves you... _him_ , rather. She loves him. It's been years since she saw a face that looks like yours. The night Jean-Luc Picard killed her husband out of jealous lust...and she's been cloistered away with me ever since. Of course, she and I had our differences, but those are all in the past now."

"I'm not interested in immersing myself in the history of all the horrific events caused by my counterpart."

"How convenient that you're able to look the other way."

"I see nothing convenient about my current situation," he clarified.

She sat down opposite him. "You are a very ungrateful man. Consider yourself lucky you are being treated so well. The average Terran prisoner isn't so fortunate."

"There is only one plate. You're not going to eat?"

The corners of her mouth curled into a smile. "Later. Go ahead, you must be starving. Gain your strength back. I need a strong adversary, not a weakling."

 _Of course you do,_ he thought to himself. He began to eat, and though he had no idea what dish he was eating, it was delicious.

"I _knew_ you would enjoy it," she said, sounding genuinely pleased.

"I have information on the Borg that could be helpful to you," he said, getting to the point. He was already feeling invigorated by the much needed nutrition.

"Oh? In exchange for...?" The smile she offered was incredibly perceptive.

"In exchange for releasing Data and myself."

She leaned back. "You're kidding, right?"

"Once you have returned us to our ship, we will work with you as much as possible to fight the Borg."

She laughed. "A Terran needing help from a prisoner from the Lesser Universe? How amusing. We are superior to you in every way!"

He returned her laughter. "We have vast cultural differences...that's all. I see no physiological differences between our two peoples. We are simply the same species existing in parallel universes."

"That doesn't change the fact that you are my prisoner-"

"Which somehow makes you superior to me? In my universe, exerting power over another person is not a sign of superiority, it is a sign of someone who needs to evolve."

"Ah...I see. So _you_ are the superior one, the _evolved_ one is that right?"

"That's not what I said."

"Yes...it is. But, let's say for the sake of argument that I needed your superior help. Why would you even care? What is in it for you?"

He shrugged. "We have had our own rather...enlightening experiences with the Borg. I see how they've infiltrated your dimension...trust me, you don't have much longer."

"One Borg cube does not mean anything. You saw one Borg cube, and you think the Terran empire is finished? How naive."

"In this matter, you are the one who's naive Admiral. I _know_ the Borg."

There was a very long pause, and he knew that he had gone too far. "You _know_ the Borg? Oh? How do you know them?"

He smiled tightly but said nothing, putting down his fork. He'd said too much. He could hardly think about his experience as Locutus without breaking into a cold sweat, and so he had no interest in revealing his darkest secrets to this woman, who could so easily exploit them.

She stood up abruptly. "At a loss for words? It seems we've reached an impasse, Captain. Enjoy the rest of your dinner." Before he could say another word, she had walked out of the room. He heard the distant hiss of the main door opening, as she left her quarters.

* * *

"Have you thought about my proposition? About chasing down Jack? Together we can make this happen. You can have your revenge."

"We'll discuss that later. Tell me about Picard," she said flatly. "I want to know his weaknesses, so that I can use them to my advantage."

M stared at Beverly Crusher through the cell door. _She really doesn't mince words._ "Ah...okay. What do you want to know?"

"Everything," she said.

"What's in it for me?"

She smiled and looked up at the ceiling. "For one, you _may_ live to see another day. Two...dinner in my quarters. Picard happens to be there too. I'd like to examine his reaction to you," she mentioned as if plotting an experiment.

"Perfect! If you want to get under his skin...better yet into his head, invite me to dinner. Believe me, the civilized facade will fall away, and you'll have your advantage."

She shook her head slowly. "I need to know what you know first. You claim to be the expert...time to deliver."


	57. Chapter 57

**Chapter 56**

* * *

 _ **IMS Contagion**_

"He says he has information on the Borg that would help us fight them. Is he lying?"

M smiled. "He said that?"

"I'm the one asking the questions...not you," Crusher clarified.

M's smile faded. "Well, I had to learn everything possible about Jean-Luc-"

"You speak about him as though you admire him," she interrupted with open curiosity. "I hear it in your voice."

"He has integrity...I'll admit that. But it didn't stop me from torturing him psychologically."

"Which is what you were assigned to do? What the _real_ Jack hired you to do."

"Correct," said M. "As I mentioned, I had to learn everything about his relationship with Jack, or the Lesser Jack, as you would call him. In his universe, Jack was his best friend, and Jack died young in the line of duty. Jean-Luc tried to save him but couldn't."

 _How the hell would Jack know so much about the death of his Lesser counterpart?_ Beverly asked herself silently. _Clearly he knew enough to cleverly pose his double. "_ And which one of them did Beverly Crusher marry? Or was she a fool like me and married them both?"

M laughed. "She's no fool. And neither are you," he quickly corrected himself, as her expression grew more dangerous. "She was married to Jack when he was killed. It was all very tragic- if you ask them."

"And there were no illicit affairs? No attempted assassinations among the three of them?"

"No...no assassination attempts as far as I know."

Crusher sat down across from her prisoner. "And now she and Picard are together..."

M shrugged. "More or less. At least they were heading that way until I came along."

"But you told me before they have a child...a daughter."

M scratched his chin, and his stomach growled with hunger. _What ever happened to dinner?_ "When I was...getting to know Beverly she told me they had just learned about the baby. According to Beverly, a weird guy named the Traveler-"

"Travelers exist in the Lesser universe? How fascinating."

"Uh...yeah. And he brought them the baby just a few weeks before I arrived on board."

Crusher got up slowly, and M began to wonder if it was wise to give her this information. Not that he had a choice.

" _If_ they are in a relationship, it's very new."

She was silent, contemplating it all.

"And my son?"

"He's a genius. Everyone loves him." _Except for me. I Can't stand the little twerp._

He was surprised in the next moment to see an unmistakable expression of pride on her face. "Good," she said simply. "That is the life I would wish for my son in any universe." Gradually her expression hardened again, and she looked at him again. "Back to the Borg."

"Um...well, so I learned a lot about Jean-Luc, but since Jack died years ago, I could only use so much information to my advantage, you know?"

"Is that a question? I thought I told you not to ask me questions."

"Oh, it's just a figure of speech," he assured her.

She continued to glare at him silently.

"So, anyway...several months ago, the Earth was nearly invaded by the Borg. I mean, I was in hibernation at the time, but when I woke up I heard the stories of course. Starfleet was decimated, and the Borg came very close to destroying it. And during that invasion, Jean-Luc was captured and assimilated by the Borg. His tactical knowledge was used against Starfleet."

"That explains the recent surgical scars my assistant discovered," she said. "And so how did he survive?"

M grinned. "Maybe that's what he wants to tell you so badly."

* * *

 ** _ISS Stargazer_ (Re-fit) **

"Hand me that hyper spanner, will you?" Geordi's boots dangled down from above, once again nearly kicking Wesley in the head. Without even looking, Wesley paused what he was doing to grasp the correct tool and hand it up to the engineer.

"Glad you finally came to your senses and decided to help us out."

LaForge's sarcastic laughter echoed in the utility tube above." Right...well it's more like I am trapped on board Jack Crusher's suicidal mission and there's no way out. So since we're going to Terra, and since we'll all probably die, I might as well help you improve the subspace weapon, so at least we have a fighting chance."

"The weapon doesn't need any improvement. Just some fine tuning," Wesley objected. "You saw what it did to that Borg cube. That's because of the improvements _I_ already made."

"I saw the cube destroyed, but you also crippled multiple ships in the blast radius-including this one. Brag all you want, it needs work."

"Whatever," Wesley muttered.

"Whatever nothing," Geordi said, dropping back down to stand next to the teen. He tapped Wesley on the shoulder with the spanner. "Your old man's lost his mind. You were better off staying on the Enterprise, and I think eventually you'll see that, Wes."

"After what I did, Troi would have killed me. The agony booth is child's play compared to what she would have done."

Geordi recalled the kid telling him that he'd stolen Troi' s runabout after meddling with her captured Lesser ships. "Well...as long as she's around, you'll just have to avoid her."

"You're such a genius..." Wesley replied sarcastically.

"But, if it makes you feel any better, she may be dead."

"What? "

Geordi explained how Troi hadn't been on board the saucer section of the Enterprise -he'd known because the Admiral had assigned him to babysit the saucer section. And so, he had wondered when the Borg cut up the star drive, whether Troi had been unlucky enough to be there. Just recalling the way Beverly had treated him made his anger return. She'd obviously sent him away so that she could be alone with Picard. As a Terran he knew he should seek revenge, but all he felt was intense jealousy. He had to find another way back into her zone of interest.

Of course, the key to that was standing right in front of him. She always wanted information about Wesley, and if she knew Wesley's father was back, she would be hyper-focused on revenge against Jack. If Geordi could help her to execute that revenge, she might find him to be a worthy partner again. The real problem was how exactly to do this, when he was currently caught up in Jack's scheme.

As crazy as Jack and his plans were, Jack was right that the Borg needed to be stopped. And if Geordi could save Data in the process, it might be their only chance to slow down the total assimilation of the Terran Empire. But he wasn't ready to admit any of this to Wesley.

"How many times did I tell you to stay out of politics, Wes? Troi and Riker were going to move against Picard someday, it was just a matter of time. No one said you had to get in the middle."

Wesley scoffed. "Is that how you hooked up with my mother? By staying out of politics?"

"It's none of your business."

"Oh? I think it is."

Geordi sighed and tossed down the tool. "Look are we going to argue, or fix this ship so that we can take on the Borg?"

Wesley shrugged. "I doubt she even cares that I'm out here trying to make something of myself."

"Oh I see...you're trying to impress your mother."

"Aren't you?" Wesley shot back. "Isn't everyone trying to live up to her impossible expectations?"

"Pretty much," LaForge admitted. "But she hates Jack. That much I know. So if you're trying to impress her, I'm not sure joining his insane misadventures is the best way to accomplish that..."

"Yeah...but at least I know she'll finally take notice of me."

For the first time in years, the teen had dropped the facade. He desperately wanted to impress his mother at literally any cost.

The intercom let out a rasping tone, and Jack's voice interrupted. " _We're going into cloak, guys, as we enter section 001. We have a visual on Terra, and it's not good. There are hundreds of Borg cubes in orbit."_

* * *

 _ **USS Enterprise Deck 13**_

"I want energy barricades here and here," Captain Louvois was saying, pointing to the entrance of main sick bay. "Keep them invisible if you can. We'll station armed personnel around the corner."

"Don't you think you had better consult with me first before blocking off access to my patients?"

Philippa turned to find Beverly Crusher watching her and Lieutenant Singh with apparent annoyance. Like nearly everyone else on trapped on the decks commandeered by the Terrans she was wearing a short-sleeved uniform shirt, and was visibly perspiring. The temperature had exceeded all comfortable levels, and the air was growing more stale by the minute.

Louvois was too uncomfortable and anxious to be apologetic. But she still made the attempt. "Sorry, Doctor, but I'm barricading all sensitive access ways on decks 10-16, and it doesn't get more sensitive than sick bay."

Beverly nodded begrudgingly, but crossed her arms, insisting on some clarification. She was so anxious about Wesley's recent disappearance that it was easier to argue with Louvois, than to be alone with her own thoughts. "Still, I've got people fainting from just this intense heat alone, not to mention the stress of being under the control of this mad man. My patients need to be able to get in."

"Agreed. We've got a nearby utility access tunnel guarded by security. Your patients can crawl through the access way into sick bay."

Beverly wiped her brow with the back of her hand. "This is ridiculous."

"Maybe so, but with your connection to the Terran Picard, we can't take any chances."

Beverly stepped forward. "Wait a minute...my connection to him? What do you mean? I have no connection to him."

"He's likely to come and see you, Beverly. In fact, we're counting on it."

* * *

 _ **USS Enterprise Deck 10**_

Picard pointed at Tasha Yar. "Check the schematics again. Is the computer core located between these decks?"

Yar complied, but turned around momentarily. "No sir. The schematics of the two Enterprises look to be identical. The core is located on deck twenty, currently not one of the areas under our control."

"We're going to have to find a way to transport onto deck twenty, unless the utility access works on deck sixteen, and we can climb down a few more decks."

"No, the utility access beyond deck 16 is blocked sir. They're trying to trap us in here."

"Not going to happen," Picard declared.

"We've deactivated all the transporters decks 10 through 16, but now that you've established control over the computer on these decks sir, there is no reason why I shouldn't be able to access the closest one and activate it."

"Fine," said the captain. "But I don't want it used, except by us. Find a utility transporter out of the way."

"Commander Riker will stop you. I'll find a way to contact him," Wesley chimed in from a corner of the room.

Picard turned on him. "Commander Riker is a useless waste of cargo space. And if you think I won't kill you, Crusher, think again. I've put up with enough insolence from you in my own universe." The captain suddenly staggered, and was seized with extreme pain. He cried out, feeling as if his head was caught in a vice. He clutched the wall tightly, while Yar looked on helplessly.

"It's the implant sir...maybe it's not a good idea to-"

"Not a good idea to _what_?" he suddenly shouted, turning on her. " I didn't bring you along to question my plans, Natasha! "

She stepped closer, surprisingly undeterred. "Yes, sir, I know...but using the implant too much could kill you."

He gripped her forearms tightly and stared wildly into her eyes. "Find the closest transporter, or _you_ will be the one facing death. A few hours on board this ship with these weaklings and you have already forgotten that we are _Terrans!"_

She shook her head vehemently. "Never sir, " she promised with quiet resolve. "I'll never forget that."

His blinding pain had changed to a dull throbbing, which caused him sickening nausea, but was now bearable. He leaned back against the wall and reasoned with himself. There was no rush to control this ship; it was merely the pain speaking, exerting its influence. The Borg implant could achieve great things, but Yar was correct, it could also kill him if he asked for too much progress too soon.

She had turned away and was working a console. "The closest utility transporter is on deck 13, in a laboratory inside sick bay, Captain."

Picard turned to Wesley, his calm returned. "And when we enter sick bay, will I find the lovely Doctor Crusher at her post? One can only hope she is as charming as the Beverly I know," he said giving Yar a knowing look.

Yar was still focused on her schematics, but gave a reliable laugh.

"Stay away from my mother," Wesley warned them, getting to his feet.

"Oh...I don't think so," said Picard, putting his arm around Wesley's shoulders. He gave the boy an affectionate squeeze. "Some meetings are inevitable...perhaps fated. But don't worry my boy, you're coming with us!"

* * *

 ** _The Stargazer (Re-fit)_**

 _"I was beginning to wonder, Geordi ..."_

LaForge looked on from the view screen, trying not to appear too ecstatic. " Beverly...I-" he trailed off, not wanting to sound too weak or needy. "It's taken me a while to figure out how to contact you without them knowing. I was able to build a sub-space transmitter-"

She looked conflicted, and he could tell she had great many things on her mind _. "Spare me the technical jargon, LaForge...who is 'them'?"_

"Jack Crusher and his fat sidekick from the Lesser Universe. They're the ones commanding the Stargazer."

Her expression grew even more severe, as the realization quickly set in. _"Jack... from our universe? Jack, who I sent into eternal exile? Jack, who I will hate until my dying breath...that Jack?"_

He nodded. "That Jack." He took a deep breath. "And there's something else." He raised his palm and pointed it back over his shoulder, checking that he was not being watched. "Wesley is with them."

She brought a hand to her chest. _"My son? So Jack is this mysterious person Wesley's been working for? Why didn't you tell me this before?"_

"I _swear_ I didn't know...not until they snatched me off of Picard's ship. So it turns out that Jack is the one with the plan I told you about after I last saw Data. He wants the Emperor's head. "

 _"What the hell for?"_

"I don't think he knows, to be honest. He's working for some shadow group...But get this, he thinks they're Romulans. "

She let out a quick laugh. " _Fairy tales. His brain is so damaged, he probably believes his own lies. And now my foolish son believes them too."_

"Jack's truly afraid of someone, Beverly, that much is real. All he'll say is that in order to stop the Borg, we need Data's head, and we need to bring it to Romulus. "

 _"Romulus was destroyed seventy years ago,"_ she hissed. _"This is insane. Mostly,_ " she corrected herself, thinking it through. She smiled at him, as ideas began to form. " _With Data's head we could introduce a virus into the Borg collective, destroying their hold on Terra. I would be the hero of our saved Empire."_

Geordi watched her most familiar expression - one of sinister scheming. _She actually wants us to carry through with Jack's suicidal plan._

 _"Cooperate with Jack, and keep Wesley close by. Once it's done, bring the Emperor's head to me, taking any steps necessary."_

 _Oh boy._ "But-"

 _"Do it, Geordi,_ " she said in a suddenly alluring voice. " _And then do whatever you need to, to convince my son to help you take control of that ship and return it to me. I want to make sure Jack survives long enough to see my victory, before he meets his end."_

"Does that mean...you and me?"

 _"You have a chance to finally earn your place at my side. Do not disappoint me."_

* * *

When Wesley stepped back on to the bridge, there were alarms going off all around. Pots was looking into the navigational scanner, and his father-well his father was acting even more insane than was typical, pacing back and forth, muttering to himself, holding a handheld agonizer and some cuffs.

For the moment, Wes ignored him, instead walking over to the Lesser engineer. "You said you have a visual on Terra..."

Pots turned his meaty head for a second before returning his gaze into the viewer. "Yep. Borg Cubes everywhere, and they are cutting up ships into scrap metal."

Wesley attempted to shove the big man aside, with no luck. Pots let out a rumbling laugh and heaved himself up out of the chair. "All yours, kid."

As Wesley moved forward looking at the small viewer he could see exactly what Pots was talking about. As the computer softly announced that they would arrive at Terra in 15 minutes, Wesley could see that there were hundreds of cubes surrounding Terra, and they were slicing up Terran ships with methodical precision.

 _We're cloaked, so we're safe,_ he kept telling himself. He quickly ran some long range sensor sweeps, and found that in the areas where Terran ships should have been, whether on patrol, or providing some other function for the empire, they were not there. He switched the viewer back to Terra. "Computer...location of the Fleet?"

 _"Eighty-five percent of the Terran Imperial fleet is currently in orbit around Terra. Other ships are continuing to respond to the Emperor's order to return to Terra for assimilation."_

"Did you hear that?" Jack suddenly shouted. "Get your friend down here, Wesley, before I drag him down. We need LaForge's info on Data. Now!"

Wesley got up and walked over to his father. "You need to calm down, Dad."

"Take this agonizer," Jack said, slapping the weapon into his son's hand. He was shaking, and feverish with rage or fear, or both. "I don't care if he's your friend. Be a Terran and do your duty."

"No need," said Geordi, stepping onto the bridge. "I'm here. Let's do this."


	58. Chapter 58

**Chapter 57**

* * *

 _ **USS Enterprise Deck 13**_

Deanna stood up when Beverly entered the room, but kept her hand protectively on the baby's chest as she slept. She could feel her friend's anxiety even before she entered the room, which was magnified by her own concerns about their current situation. Cut off from the majority of the ship, they had no present way of communicating with Will or anyone else beyond decks 10 and 16. A collective sense of confusion had been replaced by dread, when Captain Picard's Terran counterpart had announced his control of the environmental systems and referred to the imprisoned Starfleet officers and families as his "crew".

Deanna had been on deck 12 when the Terrans had apparently co-opted the ship's computer, and as worried as she was, she was glad she remained in the place where the ship's crew needed her most. Captain Louvois had begun to organize the crew on the affected decks, and Deanna was grateful for Phillippa taking the lead, because it had calmed the crew considerably. But Troi knew that there was more to come, and that any hope they had was based in part on how soon the Terran Picard would choose to act against them. What had he meant by demanding their loyalty? He must have known they would try and resist him, and so to Deanna his confidence was concerning to say the least. After Picard's announcement over the intercom she had worked between decks for several hours, calming frightened families, and giving direction to confused crew members. Emotionally spent, she had retreated to sick bay, to watch over Jeanette while Beverly worked. Now it seemed, Beverly had finally been willing to slow down for a few moments.

Beverly forced a smile, and came to stand next to Deanna, putting her arm around the counselor's waist. "How is she doing?" Her own voice sounded raw to her. She had been working non-stop to finish a serum which she had distributed for use upon anyone injured by the Terrans' nerve weapons; referred to charmingly as "agnonizers". She shifted her thoughts back to the present, uninterested in imagining what it felt like to be attacked by such a cruel device.

Troi felt her friend lean into her, a sign of exhaustion, but more than that, a need for affection which she would never mention out loud. Wesley was missing, and Captain Picard had been kidnapped by the Terrans. Beverly was well aware that it was her own mirror universe counterpart who had refused to release him when Riker had demanded it, and as a result she was not only angry, but guilty, as though she herself had done something wrong.

"I know you may not believe this, but your child is the calmest person on this ship right now. Jeanette is completely unworried, despite all of the yelling and alarms going off."

Bevery sighed and collapsed into a chair next to Jeanette's bedside. "Good. She's much stronger than I am." She suddenly slumped forward and brought her hands up to cover her face, and Deanna knew that she was on the verge of breaking down.

Troi crouched down in front of Beverly. "Beverly, I'm here for you. You don't have to hold it inside."

Beverly shook her head stubbornly and dropped her hands into her lap. Her eyes brimmed with tears, but she refused to fall apart. Not yet. She bit her bottom lip and stared past Deanna at the wall. "Captain Louvois thinks Wesley's been caught by...by the Terrans," she said in a quiet voice. She shut her eyes tightly, and imagined that sinister yet innately familiar face, smirking while he tortured her son. She didn't want to acknowledge any connection between Jean-Luc and this evil man, and yet she had plainly experienced it in person, if only for a moment. A cruel Jean-Luc from a much more brutal dimension. And now her Jean-Luc whom she had only recently admitted she loved, was nowhere to be found. She had all but turned her back on him while Jack's imposter steadily drove down her emotional defenses, and then when he had tried to save Wesley, he had been betrayed once again by the man pretending to be Jack. She knew that she would hold herself responsible for anything that happened to him under the control of the Terrans.

Deanna put a hand on Beverly's knee to try and soothe the woman's distress. "It's _going_ to be alright."

"How?" Beverly looked at her with a raw expression. " _How_? Deanna, Wesley is missing, and when I'm not thinking about him, I am thinking about Jean-Luc, and what he must be going through."

"Beverly...I know that you are feeling guilt. Do you want to tell me about it? It may make you feel better." She watched Beverly's face change as she moved through a series of strong emotions in just a few seconds. "Or perhaps you don't want to feel better..."

Beverly got up and walked to Jeanette's crib, reaching down to stroke the sleeping baby's knee. "I almost lost Jean-Luc just months ago. Of course that affected me immensely, but I was able to channel most of the trauma into helping him to heal from his abduction. But it wasn't until Jeanette came into our lives that I realized what he really means to me. But these last few months I was so blinded by Jack's return that I pushed away my feelings for Jean-Luc. Again."

"That man was controlling your mind, Beverly...manipulating every single person on this ship! Especially you, Wesley and Captain Picard. You can't blame yourself."

"Yes I can, Deanna. I allowed myself to be taken in. We all make choices, and I chose to hide from the way I feel, just like I've done for so many years. What I thought was survival after Jack was really just a series of wasted opportunites. And now he's gone, and I may never see him again."

"If there is one thing I know about Captain Picard, it is that he always finds a way. If he could overcome assimilation by the Borg, I fail to see what could ever stop him from returning to us...to you and Wesley and Jeanette."

A slow tear finally rolled down Beverly's cheek, but she didn't bother to wipe it away. "I wish I could tell Wesley everything I told you. Just _talk_ to him...like we've always done. But now he's gone too."

"You must have hope, Beverly. You _must_ persevere."

"I need my son back, Deanna. Without him, I can't find any hope."

Just then, Carmen, Jeanette's nurse burst into the room. "Doctor, we've heard from Wesley! He's on his way here."

Beverly had turned away from the crib, but as Carmen moved in to the room, she glanced down at the sound of a giggle. Jeanette was now awake and beaming up at her with a bright smile.

* * *

 **Seconds earlier...**

Wesley sprinted down the hallway toward sick bay, not certain how he had gotten free from Yar's grasp, once they had emerged from the utility access way on deck 13, but he didn't care. Long before they had shoved him out of the Captain's quarters, he had spotted a communicator on a table, which he had grabbed during one of his staged rants about contacting Riker and stopping the Terrans. Now as he raced ahead of him, he spoke into his communicator. "Wesley Crusher to security! I just got free of the Terrans, and I'm headed toward sick bay. You have to stop them, they're going to try and transport from the utility transporter in research lab three. They want to get to the computer core, to gain control of the rest of the ship."

* * *

Picard dropped down from the utility ladder grabbed Yar's arm before she could chase down Wesley Crusher. "Don't worry, Natasha. I intentionally distracted you. Let him run, and trigger whatever trap they have set for us. The confusion will serve us well."

"Aye sir."

"While I cause a diversion in sick bay, you secure the transporter. I will then follow you, and will transport to the core alone."

* * *

 _ **IMS Contagion**_

The large prison guard had been tailing them the entire walk to the Admiral's quarters, but when they halted in front of her door, the guard showed no signs of leaving.

"Uh," said M, "Are there any ground rules here? I mean, I'm not sure how much you want me to throw him off. I mean, Jean-Luc doesn't like me very much..."

"Is that right," she stated boredly. "Do whatever you have to to make him vulnerable. If I need anything else from you, you can be sure I will let you know."

"What about him?" M nodded toward the guard. "You don't need him. I promise I'll behave."

"He's not here for you," she said.

Picard had been sitting quietly at the long dinner table when they walked in, but he stood up immediately upon seeing M. He watched silently as Beverly gestured for M to sit down. Meanwhile, a huge security officer made his way to Picard's side, staring down at him menacingly. Picard stepped to the side, but the man blocked his path. He leveled his gaze at Beverly. "What happened to all of that hospitality, Admiral?"

"Some patients respond more favorably to varied levels of treatment, Captain. I've found a similar approach works well for stubborn prisoners."

Picard looked down at the table, trying to calm his rising fury, at this latest manipulation. Just seeing the man who had succeeded in tearing his life apart, made him angry, which was no doubt what she wished to achieve. "What exactly do you want from me? Perhaps I would be willing to provide it, if you would simply ask."

"Your usefulness or lack thereof has yet to be decided, Captain. But for starters, I want to know about the Borg," said Crusher. "You began to tell me, and then seemed to reconsider. I want to know what you know."

"Not in front of him," Picard objected, still not looking directly at Jack's lookalike.

Beverly sighed and sat down at the table, gesturing for M to do the same. Of course he gladly complied, but instead of sitting next to her he sauntered down to the other end of the table to sit down just a seat away from Jean-Luc. Smiling at his initiative, she snapped her fingers, and Jenice appeared, hurrying from an adjacent room. Crusher pointed at M. "Feed him."

Stealing a furtive glance at Picard she rushed away, returning just moments later with a plate of steaming food, setting it in front of M carefully. Jean-Luc watched with open hostility as M's eyes lingered over her slim figure. Something at that moment caused him to catch her gaze. "Hello Jenice," he said, finding that his empathy for this poor woman calmed his anger to a degree. Jenice merely averted her eyes, looking down at the table.

Beverly sat back in her chair, watching them both with her predatory gaze. "She knows better than to speak to you, Captain. And she knows from experience what I am capable of."

"How sad that she had to learn those lessons at all."

"Jenice is a _Terran_ , not some weak woman who you're used to consorting with," Beverly scoffed. "Do you prefer your women weak, Captain?" She turned on a charming but cold smile. "If so, you've crossed into the wrong universe...but I think you must have already realized that."

"You mistake kindness for weakness," he shot back. "Where I come from, kindness is strength, and those who seek power through violence are doomed to succumb to a similar fate."

Beverly pointed her sharp looking fork at M, who had been devouring his food without comment until then. "Is he always making speeches like this?"

M nodded. "He's known for it. But actually he was pretty subdued while I was on the Enterprise. I think it must have been because he thought I was his good buddy returned from the dead. Threw him for a loop."

"Threw him for a _what_?" She demanded.

"He was confused," M clarified.

"Mind altering devices have a way of achieving that effect," said Picard.

M smiled at him, happy to have engendered a response. "If it makes you feel better to believe that you ended up here because of mind control, Jean-Luc, go right ahead."

Picard looked past M, at Beverly. "I have no intention of telling you anything useful in front of this reprobate."

"Oh, name calling... I thought you were bigger than that, Jean-Luc," said M.

Picard ignored him, still focusing his attentions on Admiral Crusher. "You either want to negotiate or play games, which is it?"

She smiled at him. "What's the difference?"

"A true negotiation suggests that you are interested in resolving the issue of my presence here, rather than just toying with me," he said.

"Don't you like to be toyed with, Captain? Of course, if you really want the full experience, I'll have him removed from our company."

Picard shook his head in quiet aggravation, and sat back in his chair, aware of the guard's looming presence behind him.

"You know," said M, wiping his chin. "I think he must miss his kid. Maybe that's what's bothering him so much."

Picard laced his hands over his stomach and instructed himself to remain calm. "Do not discuss my child. I promise you will regret it," he said in a low voice.

"A proud father. How honorable...and rare," Beverly added mildly, pouring herself a glass of wine. She ran her finger around the rim of the glass. "And to my ears that sounded like a threat."

"Fine," laughed M, turning back to Picard. "How about the Borg? Let's talk about them."

"No."

M laughed again, but the sound was not friendly. "Then all the Admiral will know is what I told her."

Picard blinked slowly. "What do you know about the Borg?"

"Well...I know that without your knowledge, they wouldn't have nearly wiped out planet Earth. I know that you let them use you like some kind of robot, instead of fighting back."

Picard's hands began to twitch, and he brought them below the table, gripping them tightly. It was a vestige of the implants. Sometimes his muscles would spasm as though under a brief but intense electric current; something Beverly told him were ghost-like vibrations that in time would subside or disappear. _Beverly._ He blinked again, dimly aware that M was still speaking, and that he had blocked some of the man's words out. He realized that he had been staring at Admiral Crusher, and that he had been thinking about Beverly as an escape, and a means of calming his anger.

She gazed back at him, and he thought he saw something mocking in her eyes. But there was also a look of genuine interest. She wanted to know what he was thinking, and perhaps this was the only way she knew how to connect with another person. She was a master of both power and control, and wanted him to know this.

M got up and sat down closer to Jean-Luc, relishing his new freedom. "Let's switch subjects again." He leaned as if ready to confide in Picard. "When I first started studying all of you, I was _amazed_ to find how you put Beverly up on a pedestal for all of those years. She's just a woman. Why all of the repression and self denial? You must get off on being so emotionless and withholding. Is that it?"

Jean-Luc ran his hand over the top of his head, but said nothing.

Beverly watched the interaction with increased interest. Jack's double was risking getting too physically close while provoking the captain, but she reminded herself that she was viewing them from a Terran perspective. Picard hadn't done a thing yet that indicated he was angry enough to attack the fake Jack.

Picard looked carefully down at the table, but his thoughts were now filling with an angry red haze. _She is using him to try and humiliate me. Just ignore his lies._

M finished the rest of his meal and licked his greasy fingers, still watching Picard intently. "Not interested yet? Okay...back to the mind control device. It's funny you mentioned it. I wonder if you ever imagined what Beverly was willing to do for me because of that device." He watched Picard's face twitch momentarily, but the man remained stoic. "Maybe things she would never be willing to do for you...or maybe I didn't need to use a mind control device at all when I was alone with her. Maybe she was just... willing."

Picard stood up quickly, and tried to step away from the table, but Crusher's guard gripped his shoulders and forced him back down into his seat. He angrily yanked his arm away, fixing her with an angry stare. "You think you can get under my skin, by having him here? Is that what you're doing?"

"Obviously I was correct. Although it didn't take nearly as long as I thought it would," Crusher said, sounding somewhat irritated.

"Sorry to disappoint," he said. "He's correct. I do miss my child. I _am_ bothered by the things he's saying. Now, just what are you trying to achieve?"

M sniffed in the air, looking into the distance with a longing expression. He was in a zone, why stop now? "I can still remember the first time with her. Of course, it wasn't that long ago. And you know, she thought it wasn't the first time-not the way she behaved. It was like she was so gratified that someone was finally giving her what she wanted that she just let go of all of her inhibitions."

Jean-Luc lashed his arm out behind the man's head in one smooth motion, slamming his face into the table. It all happened so quickly, he never actually thought about harming the man before he had done it. The crunching sound on the smooth table, and quick rush of blood, confirmed that he had broken the man's nose, knocking him cold. He stood up, and this time the guard didn't grab for him, but still stood his ground, looking to Crusher for orders. She shook her head, and pointed at the table. "Clean this mess up," she snapped at the guard. "Put him back in his cell."

For a quick moment, Picard thought she was referring to him, until the guard deftly picked M up over his shoulder and left her quarters. Beverly looked at him closely. "You're covered in his filthy blood. Finally, maybe you'll change out of that constricting uniform."

"Did you enjoy that?" he said, voice unsteady and filled with emotion. "Did you enjoy humiliating me?"

She stepped closer to him. "Perhaps a little bit. But I'm a Terran...not a complete monster. Do I look like a monster?" She brought her hand to the side of his neck, and he stepped back suddenly.

"Looks can be deceiving," he said, taking another step backward, as she closed the distance between them again.

Suddenly the lighting turned red, and the alarms began to sound.

 _"Barclay to Admiral Crusher."_

"Go ahead," she ordered. "Why the red alert?"

 _"We-we're under attack, s-sir!"_

Crusher went cold, imagining another Borg cube. "Don't keep me in suspense, Reginald."

 _"It t-took us a few minutes to identify the vessel-they were mo-moving so fast! But Admiral, it's the Enterprise saucer section."_

"They shouldn't have more than full impulse, Barclay, is this some kind of joke?"

 _"No sir...Riker's already hailed us, demanding we hand over Troi or face destruction."_

* * *

 **Hey, I hope everyone rocked out in celebration of Earth Day. Thanks for reading, and following. Will post again soon. -PP**


	59. Chapter 59

**Chapter 58**

 ** _USS Enterprise_**

Carmen leaned over the edge of the crib, looking down at Jeanette, who was now wide awake. As she protectively watched the infant, she suddenly recalled the strange man who had been standing next to Jeanette during the battle...It also just occurred to her that she hadn't told Beverly about that brief interaction, and now in the midst of another emergency, she couldn't understand why she had been so foolish as to have forgotten.

Jeanette had raised her little fists, and appeared to be concentrating on one hand and then the other with her clear green eyes. In the next instant two small globes appeared above Jeanette; one over each fist. Carmen leaned in and could see better that there was a small figure inside of each one. The baby giggled, and then shut her eyes, in apparent concentration, as the figures seemed to flail about inside the bubble-like spheres. Carmen blinked in confusion and then leaned down again, mouth gaping in shock, as she realized just what she was seeing.

* * *

Wesley ran as though his life depended on it, and of course he believed that it did. He heard shouts behind him, and the pounding footsteps of his two Terran pursuers, but as he rounded the corner, he saw sickbay, and a group of security officers running in his direction.

"Move to the side," they shouted to him. "Move out of the way!"

He dove in mid-step, and landed hard on the deck, as phaser and disruptor fire sizzled over his head.

"They're shooting to kill," he heard one of the security officers shouting as Wesley tried to crawl to the edge of the corridor.

Wesley heard the Terran Picard laugh, and then more disruptor fire, as he covered his head protectively. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Yar shoot one of the security officers down, and then rush toward him with determination etched into her features. Looking down the hallway ahead of them, he was horrified to see that only one security officer was still on his feet and was engaged in a standoff with Picard. Seeing the energy barricade was still up, but hoping for a miracle, he pulled himself to his feet and sprinted towards sickbay.

"Don't shoot him!" he heard Picard order Yar, who was still on his heels. "He's not going anywhere with that barricade in place, and neither are we. Find the source of that barricade and take it out, so we can get inside."

Wesley made the mistake of hesitating to turn around, and saw Picard begin to charge after him. Picking up his pace, he closed his eyes imagining what it would feel like to bounce off the glowing energy field now directly in his path. Then suddenly, he was lifted into the air, legs still churning. Amazed at this new predicament he turned his head to the left and saw that Picard was encased in a large bubble next to him in mid-air. Picard looked for the first time to be actually frightened, but he couldn't take any solace in that, since he was frightened as well. The inside of the bubble grew dark and then he was in another place altogether...

* * *

 _Wesley's feet dangled in nothingness, and the fingers of his right hand ached with the effort of holding himself for too long. Looking down between his feet he saw the sharp lines of a cliff wall, extending so far down that he could not see the bottom. A cut above his eye threatened to blind him, as a warm trickle ran down his face. Frantic, he tried to lift his left arm up to grab the edge of the cliff, but then remembered-or perhaps noticed for the first time, that his left arm was holding something. Something heavy._

 _A strong hand clamped on his right wrist, and he lifted his shaking neck to peer into a familiar but unfriendly face. "Give me the head," Picard shouted over the harsh wind. The Terran captain's face was covered in a black sand, and peppered with cuts. Wesley looked back down to the crook of his arm and saw Data's face staring up at him with blank eyes. "No," coughed Wesley, trying desperately to regain his grip on the crumbling rock wall._

 _"You need to trust me, or we'll all die," Picard assured him._

* * *

 ** _USS Enterprise_**

Wesley found himself in sick bay, feeling very hazy and unsteady on his feet. Aside from that, he felt surprisingly fine. The images of a stark landscape and a sheer cliff were etched into his mind. He looked down at his hand, expecting it to be covered in dirt and pierced with tiny pebbles, but it was fine. Glancing to his right, he saw that the Terran version of Captain Picard was standing nearby, looking similarly confused, as he swayed slightly on his feet, and then wiped at invisible sand on his face. He turned to Wesley with an accusatory yet curious expression.

"Did you do that to me, boy?"

Wesley shook his head wordlessly, and then realized that they weren't alone. Sick bay staff and security personnel surrounded them, and weaving their way quickly through the crowd was Counselor Troi and his mother. Not taking her eyes off of Picard, Beverly reached out and grabbed her son's hand, pulling him toward her into a protective hug.

"Why hello Beverly," Picard said almost politely.

She opened her mouth as if contemplating a reply, but merely hugged Wesley closer to her.

"It's over," came an authoritative shout from across sickbay. Phillipa Louvois approached the Terran Captain cautiously, her phaser raised. "Drop your weapon, you're surrounded."

Picard smiled with mock innocence, and lifted his disruptor. "What...this?"

"Drop it!" Louvois shouted again. Picard swung the disruptor in her direction, the smile now gone from his face, but the sound of phaser fire came from behind him. The impact of the beam struck him in his arm, spinning him around with a subdued grunt. He gripped his injured arm, and searched the floor for his disruptor while balanced on one knee. His breath came fast now, as he recognized dimly that he hadn't been shot on a stun setting. _At least they now understand that stopping a Terran requires more than gentle persuasion._ Blood bubbled from between his fingers as he attempted to staunch the wound with his hand.

A nurse hesitated, stepping toward him, but Beverly sharply ordered him back. "No! Don't touch him!"

Picard laughed at the frightened look on the young nurse's face as he froze in place.

Picard got to his feet slowly, very aware that multiple weapons were still trained on him. "Now _there's_ the familiar bedside manner," he said, winking at Beverly.

At the same moment, Yar burst into sick bay, tossing a small cylinder onto the deck ahead of her, which immediately emitted a light colored smoke-like substance. She was wearing a breathing mask over the lower part of her face.

Picard casually pulled a similar mask from his belt and placed it over his face. He nodded to Yar, and they made their way through sick bay, as the occupants of the room began to quickly fall unconscious. "Sweet dreams," he said, carefully stepping around Beverly's now still form.

* * *

 ** _The IMS Contagion_**

"Don't even think of going anywhere, while I'm gone." She reached up and tapped his forehead with her index finger. "I put a transponder right here while you were unconscious."

He searched her eyes, trying to determine if she was lying or not. He couldn't tell. "Shouldn't you be rushing to the bridge right now? You're under red alert."

"Don't tell me how to run my ship," Crusher snapped.

"Fine...take your time then. It's only life and death," Picard remarked.

Before he could step away she grabbed him and kissed him forcefully. Oddly, he found himself responding for a moment, but then pushed her away.

She looked surprised, perhaps even offended at what she interpreted to be his lack of interest. Quickly regaining her poise she said, "we're not done here, Jean-Luc."

"Of course we aren't," he murmured as she exited swiftly.

Once she had gone, he decided to explore her quarters, now that he was thinking more clearly. He recalled from reading about the history of James Kirk's visit to the mirror universe, that the Terran officers heavily favored surveillance of their crew. He wandered into her bedroom, hoping to find a monitor. She would have no need to hide it, would she? Sure enough, a large screen was sent in a wall not too far from her bed. He was careful to not look too closely at her bed, which was much larger than any bed aboard his Enterprise. Moving around it cautiously, he walked to the screen.

Looking at the control panel, he could see a representation of the ship that was divided into quadrants. From here she could watch the crew performing their duties, or even spy on them in their private moments. It was intrusive, disturbing, and yet very convenient to carry out the plan that had been forming in his mind ever since the attack on the Contagion was announced. Hoping the system was as user friendly as it seemed, he waved his hand over areas of the ship diagram until he found a series of labs. Data was injured, she would have needed special equipment to revive him. The Beverly in his universe was a cybernetics expert in part because of her relationship to Data. Here in this universe, Data was Beverly's enemy, and also her superior, but perhaps at some point they had been more closely acquainted. In any case, she had indicated Data was well enough to communicate with her. Whether he was under guard remained to be seen. Seeing a series of labs, as he slowed the motion of his hand over the screen, he halted. "Could this be it?" He asked the empty room.

"It could be," said an unexpected voice.

He whirled around to find Jenice standing just inside Crusher's bedroom. He put his hands up in slow surrender. "I can explain," he assured her.

She smiled. "I'll keep your secret if you keep mine," she said.

"Your secret?" he asked.

She walked forward out of the shadows. "That I'm here...that I'm talking to you. Take your pick, it's all justification for execution on this ship."

"Of course, I won't say a thing," he said, trying to assess her motives.

She tilted her head while looking at him. "You're not him, are you? You do look like him. Mostly."

He cleared his throat, no longer stymied by this question. "The answer to that is...quite strange. I am him. Another version of him from a different universe."

"She would kill us both if she knew I was talking to you. That's how much she hates the idea of us being together."

"Again," he said uncomfortably. "We're not together, and never were. Because I'm not the Picard either of you know."

She smiled again. "You're close enough for both of us."

She sat down on the edge of the bed, still watching him. "Don't let me stop you, Captain. Go ahead with whatever you were planning."

He actually laughed. "I have no idea how to use this this," he admitted.

She got up and immediately moved to stand next to him. Her hand hovered over the controls. "You were on the right track. Maybe if you tell me exactly what you were searching for...?"

He hesitated, unsure if it was wise to trust her, but he felt she had him at a disadvantage. "A cybernetics lab," he said.

"You're in luck. There's only one on board." She moved her hand quickly over the screen and images flashed by quickly. Suddenly she stopped her movement. "There it is. Now what else do you need?" Her hand moved lower to a strange button that lay beneath the main panel. "You can kill everyone in that room if you want to, with just a touch of a button."

He grabbed her hand quickly. "No," he objected. "That's not what I want."

"I missed that touch," she said, looking into his eyes. But her openness was soon replaced by a hard expression. She turned back to the screen. "What do you want? An audio link up?"

"Yes," he agreed, watching what she was doing very carefully, trying to memorize the steps. He was grateful for the help, but could not help but feel that this arrangement would soon backfire on him. "How many crew members on board this ship are aware that Captain Picard of your universe is no longer on board?"

Jenice looked at him quizzically. "It's impossible to say. Rumors fly through space faster than warp speed, Captain. At least, in this universe they do. Although, granted, I didn't even know he was on this ship until you just mentioned it."

" _Was_ is the key word," said Picard. "He escaped to my Enterprise," he said quietly, trying not to think too hard about that. "In any case, I gather that he and Admiral Crusher were not on good terms before he left."

"I'm not sure I remember a time when they ever were on good terms."

Something about the way she was staring at him, prompted him to get back to the task at hand. "I need to transmit a signal to that lab." _If I'm right, and Data is not completely immobilized, he will understand, and find a way to respond._

* * *

"Report." Crusher stalked through a mass of rushing crewmen, before gripping the back of her command chair, just as the deck tilted violently.

"Admiral, we're under attack!"

"I need a little more detail," she shouted, as the ship shook. "Fire back at them!"

But as she watched the main viewer she could see just who, or rather what they were being attacked by. It was the _ISS_ _Enterprise_ , except, something about the familiar sleekness of Picard's ship was now even more smooth. Large areas of the hull appeared to have been patched by a strange black material. "What's that on their hull?"

Barclay turned at his post. "Th-that _is_ their hull s-sir," he confirmed. "Sensors show that while this is the the the-"

"Enterprise," she snapped, falling into her chair, eyes still fixed on the screen.

"The sh-ship has somehow evolving Admiral, possibly in response to exposure to the Borg cube. So far Riker's motives are unclear, aside from demanding our surrender and Troi's return."

There was a hushed murmur at the mention of Deanna Troi's name. It seemed the crew hadn't been aware of her arrival, until Riker had shown up minutes ago and announced his return. Looking around at their already concerned faces, she could tell they were thinking only of escape.

"Get yourselves together and keep your attention to your posts," Crusher warned her crew.

She leaned forward in her chair. "Riker is a damn fool and he's got another thing coming if he thinks his ship is a match for mine."

"As I m-mentioned, Admiral, the Enterprise appears to have advanced since-"

"Shut up! Engage the cloaking device."

"Engaged, Admiral."

She paused. "Helm, go to 423 mark 51..."

"Aye sir. Coordinates executed."

The lights dimmed on the bridge, and there was a garbled sound from the intercom before a calm but authoritative voice began speaking. _"Attention crew of the IMS Contagion. This is Emperor Data speaking. You are immediately to disregard any orders issued by Admiral Crusher, who is a traitor to the Terran Empire. Some of you may have observed me, and are aware that I have boarded your vessel. Should you fail to obey my commands, the consequences will be severe."_

Crusher froze in her chair, gripping the armrests tightly. _Picard!_ She thought with renewed fury. _He's trying to cause a distraction so that he can escape._

"Lies," she declared, jumping to her feet to address her crew. "That was not Emperor Data, but an imposter who has infiltrated my ship in an attempt to gain power."

Several officers had paused, staring with uncertainty at their posts, while others began to cautiously step away. "I _demand_ your loyalty," she shouted. "Anyone who chooses to disobey me will suffer, I promise every one of you."

The bridge suddenly shook violently, and the tactical officer tumbled across the deck. In the confusion, she saw at least three of her crew exit the bridge, scattering. As she silently vowed revenge, Crusher fell to one knee, gripping the side of her chair.

"Admiral," Barclay reported. "The Enterprise has targeted us and is firing-d-damage to shields is considerable."

Pounding the armrest, she pushed herself up, glaring at the view screen. "How do they know where we are?" she whispered.

"Unknown."

* * *

 ** _ISS Enterprise_**

Captain Riker leaned back in his chair boredly and folded his hands over the top of his head. "This is almost too easy," he said aloud. "Everything about this ship is now more advanced than Crusher's ship. But that's not enough. Hell, I could probably find Deanna and beam her off that hulk if I wanted to." He sighed and leaned forward. "We have to do something that will totally surprise and humiliate Crusher. Whatever we do it has to be absolutely legendary."

An idea came to him then. "Riker to Engineering."

" _Engineering here."_

"Just how much is this ship capable of?"

" _Could you be more specific, sir?"_

"Has any ship ever successfully warped through a solid object?"

" _No one has lived to report such an occurrence, sir..."_

"Yes, but no Terran ship before us has every had the benefit of Borg transwarp drive."

 _"Sir, what you are proposing is probably suicidal. We could destroy the Contagion and possibly ourselves at the same time_."

"But if not, I'll be forever famous. Make it so..."


	60. Chapter 60

**Chapter 59**

 _ **USS Enterprise Deck One**_

"Has the plasma leak on deck 28 been taken care of?"

"Yes, sir. The technicians report it has been neutralized," reported Worf.

"Good. Helm, what's our status?"

"Just drifting, sir. The controls are inconsistent. We've got full power to propulsion now, but no navigation whatsoever."

 _Damn._ Riker sat slumped forward in the command chair, staring down at the deck between his boots. The ship's computer couldn't be relied upon anymore to respond, and when it did, the results were unexpected and sometimes dangerous. The plasma fires that had been breaking out all over the ship were of course explainable. An invader from the Mirror universe had taken control of a substantial portion of the ship, fragmenting the main computer's command systems, and generally causing chaos. Meanwhile there was still no communication with decks ten through sixteen, presumably because of Picard's control. W _ithout knowing how he's managed to gain control we won't be able to reverse what he's done._

T'Pel turned from science station one. "Commander, I have something for you to see."

Riker broke out of his frustrated daze and walked to the back of the bridge. _Please let this be something good._ "What have you got?"

T'Pel moved out of the way so that he could see the screen. His heart jumped. "The _Phoenix_! It's just two sectors away from here."

The Vulcan scientist nodded. She had been ordered out of the cargo bay after it was determined that the survivors from the captured federation ships were actually in communication with the corrupted Enterprise computer, and were perhaps contributing to the computer's difficulties. The cargo bay had since been sealed off, and all power terminated; however, efforts to stop the Borg assimilated officers had been unsuccessful, once it was determined it was likely not possible to stop them without also killing them. "Correct. Commander, I ran long range boosted sensor sweeps-"

"Wait-how the hell did you do that? Worf has been struggling to get a single sensor reading from tactical."

"I could proceed with my original report, Commander, or I could explain the lengthy way in which I diverted power to my science station, which could take more than 30 minutes..."

"I'll take option one."

She nodded curtly. "The USS Phoenix is roughly one parsec away. The sensors showed no other Federation ships in the surrounding vicinity, and found no obvious life signs." He didn't even have a chance to allow that distressing information to sink in before she hit a pad and the screen switched to another sector of space. "Additionally, there is this."

This time, his heart felt frozen in his chest. There were two Borg cubes clearly. He tapped the screen. "The're just floating there," he whispered. "For now." He and T'Pel looked at each other for a few silent moments, before he got himself together. They had to escape, somehow. There were no other options available.

T'Pel seemed to have read his mind. "I have identified an ion station between our position and the Borg, Captain. If they are within our sensor range, we are surely within theirs. However, if we can reach the station we will have a chance to return to our own universe."

"With no functional navigation that's going to have to be a miracle." Riker stared at the screen a moment more. If they left the Mirror universe they would be abandoning not only the ships they were sent to re-capture, but Captain Picard and Data as well, with the possibility that they would not be able to return. However, he decided that the prospect of contacting Starfleet Command and gaining reinforcements to return could not be ignored. "Let's do it," he said almost to himself, before stepping away.

"Riker to LaForge."

 _"LaForge here."_

"Geordi I need you to get to the computer core now and get this mess under control before P...before _he_ takes over the whole ship. Take your best people and do whatever you need to do to get our navigation back online. I'll join you shortly."

 _"I'm on it."_

Riker turned to tactical. "Worf, get a security team together and meet LaForge in the core."

"Aye sir."

* * *

"Once again, Lieutenant, you have proven your worth to me," Picard said, leaning his forehead against the wall. "And once again, we must sadly part ways."

Yar nodded, aware that despite the captain's wounded status, challenging his orders would not be wise. Picard's moods were growing increasingly erratic, and she feared the implant was no longer safe. She knew that his all-or-nothing approach to conquering this ship could be the death of him, but she also knew that attempting to persuade him would be perceived as weakness. Picard dying was a prospect that she did not want to think about. As he struggled to catch his breath, she eyed the phaser wound on his shoulder. "I have a med kit sir," she said, unslinging her pack.

He shook his head breathlessly. "No time. You know what you need to do."

She nodded and adjusted her disruptor so that it emitted a thin short energy beam. Picard held out his arm with a grim expression, and she fired the weapon at the wound, cauterizing it instantly. He collapsed back against the wall, fainting for a few seconds. Yar reached down and took hold of his good arm as his eyes fluttered open again. Laughing, he allowed her to help him up, bracing himself against the wall again. He pointed at a narrow compartment nearby. "Is that it?"

"That's it, Captain," she said, double-checking the coordinates she had programmed into the utility transporter. "It's ready, sir."

He nodded, and checked his belt to confirm that he was still heavily armed. "Once you're inside the computer core, look for a cable that's stabilized, Captain. There should be a green marking along the length of it. You should...prepare for a large jolt of power," she warned, knowing that was an understatement.

"M-hmm," he agreed, before stepping onto the narrow transporter pad. He turned to face her seriously. "You are to return to sick bay, Lieutenant, and wait for me there. Activate your personal force field to protect yourself. Watch the Lesser crew carefully, and speak to them only when they initiate the conversation, telling them nothing about our specific plans. Gather information as needed. Aside from that, I expect you to instill fear into them that their ship will soon be under Terran control."

"Yes, Captain," she said reaching up for the controls.

"Energize," he said with a smile, and she continued to watch as the beam took him.

* * *

 **A few sectors away...**

"The saucer section is still in p-pursuit," reported Barclay. "The cloak means nothing to them."

"Fire aft torpedoes," Crusher said, turning her chair around to survey her nearly empty bridge. Her cowardly officers, convinced that Emperor Data was on board, had fled the command center. "Jean-Luc is playing a little game with me," she said, as proximity alarms began to shriek over her head. "We'll see who's laughing soon enough."

"We're being scanned by the saucer, Admiral."

"Riker's looking for Troi...he can have her, as far as I'm concerned. But why the dramatic chase?"

Barclay glanced up quickly. "He's just beamed out the occupants of the entire detention area."

She began to laugh, getting out of her chair. "Oh, go ahead, Riker. Take all of my prisoners...helm, go to-" she turned to find the helmsman sneaking away from his post. "Hey!" She reached underneath her command chair, grabbing something as she passed by, pursuing him. The helmsman turned around to look at her with wide eyes. "Just where exactly do you think you're going?"

"To...uh declare my loyalty to the Emperor, sir."

She pressed her lips together. "I see." Raising her disruptor, she fired once hitting him in the chest, and he fell backwards into the turbolift. Holstering her weapon she walked back down and sat down calmly at the helm. She punched in the coordinates she had been about to order the helm, as the Enterprise continued to pursue.

"Something's h-h-happening," shouted Barclay. "Sensors showing a massive buildup of plasma energy inside the saucer section."

"I'm getting us out of here," Crusher shouted back at him.

She was thrown forward onto the console and a blinding light burned her eyes. She desperately tried to cover them with her hands, and then the light was gone. Through blurry eyes, she reached out for the console, only to find that it was gone. Rather it was bizarrely streaming like a fountain into the deck. Getting up, she staggered back to Reginald Barclay.

"What the hell is happening?" she heard herself ask, but her voice was distorted and slow. Barclay opened his mouth to speak, but his features seemed to melt in front of her. Or was she the one melting? The deck flowed like water, and she wondered if she would be better off swimming.

"Enter-prise...collision...time distortion," Barclay tried to explain in the same slow, distorted tone.

"He crashed into us?"

 _Warning, repeated the computer. Hull breach. Attempting to restore pressure._

"Trying to get a visual on the outer hull...oh no, oh no," Barclay's face was ashen as turned from his console and then he leaped in slow motion from his chair. "Admiral we m-must evacuate immediately," he shouted, waving toward the lift.

She raced after him, but felt her legs took forever to carry her to the lift. Once inside, the lift dropped and she felt the skin on her face lift upward as her body continued to drop. Barclay seemed similarly to stretch physically in front of her.

"He's collided with us," Barclay explained.

"How are we still alive?" Crusher questioned, as she lifted her hand to watch the fingers of her right and elongate and appear to droop toward the floor.

"I d-don't know," said Barclay. "When I looked at the outer view of the hull...Admiral, the saucer section is still moving through the center of our ship...very slowly."

"If Riker survives this, I'm going to kill him myself," Crusher replied as the turbo lift stopped. The doors were stuck, but she found that when she pushed on the inside of the doors her hands simply moved through the material like it was some kind of gel. She and Barclay nearly fell out into a corridor on what appeared to be deck seven. They were horrified to find that there were swarms of people running away from a glowing hole in the deck, which was spreading almost as fast as they could run.

* * *

Barclay ran backwards turning his handheld scanner toward the gaping hole. "It's a wormhole!"

"A wormhole on my ship...what next?"

"We've got to get out of here."

"How?" she nearly screamed. "The lifts won't work, and we've got no life boats on this level. Unless...yes, let's find a damn transporter."

"If the saucer is still intact we can attempt to beam onto the Enterprise. But what about the rest of the crew."

She laughed. "You mean the traitors who abandoned their posts?"

"Are you truly going to abandon your crew?" questioned a self-righteous voice from behind her. The very voice sent her into an inner rage before she even confirmed it was him.

Picard, Data and Jenice Manheim stood in the midst of the rest of the fleeing crew members. They were armed, and Jenice had an extremely satisfied look on her face. As well she should, as she had puled off the ultimate betrayal, one Crusher would not soon forget. Picard stood with his arms at his sides, disruptor held loosely in his hand.

Crusher tilted her head in Jenice's direction. "Traitor...you _will_ pay for this."

Jenice smiled and her hands tightened around the rifle she was holding; her submissive demeanor having departed for the moment, perhaps permanently.

"Enough," snapped Picard. "There's obviously some kind of space time distortion going on here, and we are literally going to die if we don't get off of your ship."

Crusher crossed her arms stubbornly. "Perhaps I would rather _die_ in a wormhole than align with a traitor and Lesser versions of two people I absolutely despise."

"What about you?" Picard pointed at Barclay. "Have you at least got some sense? You were up on the bridge...what did you see?"

"She's right," said Barclay, who had been sending nervous glances toward Data. "Riker created a wormhole in the middle of the _Contagion_ when he crashed the saucer section of the Enterprise through our hull. His ship has some kind of transwarp capability...and he just tried to use it on us."

" _What?_ How are we not dead?"

"That's what _I_ said," Crusher smiled tightly.

"The time distortion is likely all that has kept us alive thus far," Data added. "In real time, we would not be having this conversation. We would be dead. However, the act of colliding and passing through this ship is still taking place."

"Time has slowed down," offered Jenice.

"Yes," Data confirmed.

"Data...I don't suppose you can estimate just how much time we have left?"

"Approximately ten minutes."

Picard turned to Crusher with challenge in his eyes. "Well...are you going to take charge, or shall I?"

* * *

 **Hello, as always, thanks for following and reviewing this story. Hope you enjoy. -PP**


	61. Chapter 61

**Chapter 60**

Beverly stepped toward Picard with incredulous outrage. "What did you just say?"

He eyed her. "This is your ship and crew, and yet you show absolutely no concern for ensuring their- -aa!" He staggered back as she lashed out with a slicing motion. He glared back at her, holding the side of his face where she had just cut him with a very sharp knife.

Without missing a beat, she pointed at Barclay with the knife. "Get a connection to my personal shuttle and then find a way to execute a massive emergency transport. I want as many of the crew transported onto Riker's ship as we can manage. Preferably right in the middle of his bridge. Now!"

As Barclay hurried off, she faced Jean-Luc again. "You would be wise not to challenge my authority again, Captain. You seem to forget that you are in my universe now...and in my universe I don't suffer through long winded speeches about compassion for my traitorous crew. Compassion, as you should know by now, is not a personal trait of mine."

"That would explain why your use of violence is so excessive," Data observed.

"My use of violence is _necessary_ ," she shot back.

"And you will find that it takes more than violence to keep me quiet," said Picard in a measured tone.

She walked closer to him. "You were my prisoner, and if I wanted you to remain so, you would. You had your chance, and you squandered my generosity. You snuck away like a coward but you couldn't quite pull off an escape, could you? What's more, you turned my crew against me, and that is why _you_ are the reason my ship is falling into a goddamn wormhole. I hope you enjoy Riker's hospitality, Jean-Luc, because you won't have my protection anymore."

He laughed. "Your _protection_?"

"If you think I'm so violent, wait until you meet the combination of Will Riker and Deanna Troi. In fact, if I didn't so relish the idea of you being tortured by Riker, I would leave you to die here."

No response to that seemed of value, so he remained silent. She intended to beam him over with her to the saucer section? Or did she intend on taking him with her on her personal shuttle. What exactly was her intent? Riker and Troi...he was reminded of the bloodbath they had discovered in a civilian freighter early on in their journey, and the dying crewman's reaction to seeing _his_ Deanna Troi. It made him pause, and he didn't doubt for a second that the Admiral was telling the truth.

As she turned away from them to gesture for Barclay to hurry up, Picard grabbed Data by the arm and backed him away. "Is it ready?" He muttered, glancing over at Jenice, who had shifted her stance and was staring transfixed as the edges of the distortion crawled toward their boots. In just minutes they would either be swallowed up by the spreading wormhole, or they would escape.

Data blinked quickly twice. "Yes, captain."

"Let's go then." The moment that the transporter beam took them seemed to stretch out longer than usual, and in reality, probably did, due to the time distortion. And as a result, Crusher turned around to see them go. The look on her face seemed almost literally frozen in time and was one he knew he was not likely to ever see again.

* * *

Picard ran for the navigator seat as soon as the three fugitives materialized inside the Admiral's personal shuttle. Jenice tossed her rifle into a nearby seat and clapped her hands. "It worked!"

"Partially," replied Data, settling into the pilot's seat. "I successfully intercepted Reginald Barclay's attempt to transmit his and the Admiral's coordinates to this shuttle, substituting our own, thus initiating our transport here. Whether we will be able to escape remains to be seen."

Picard silently typed a transmission code into the console, wiping blood from his cheek. Something needled at him, and he wished wasn't capable of feeling guilt for what he had just done. He had no reason to feel guilt at all...he was escaping just as any prisoner would try to do. And that woman as much as she appeared to be Beverly, damn well was not. "As soon as we're free, Data, we'll let this distress call go out and hope the Enterprise... _our_ Enterprise can pick it up. I've incorporated one of Riker's command codes, and he is sure to recognize them and find our location."

"This shuttle has a highly advanced security system, Captain," Data said. "I am overriding the outer bay doors."

Jenice sat down behind Picard. "As soon as we get out of here, you've got to go into warp. If Riker sees Crusher's shuttle, he's going to either try and destroy us, or bring us back on board," she warned.

"Understood," said Picard and Data at the same time.

* * *

 ** _ISS Enterprise Saucer_**

"Have we taken any damage?" Riker finally got up from his seat to walk to the forward view screen. His idea to warp the Enterprise saucer section through the middle of Crusher's much larger ship the Contagion had been a strange and spontaneous idea. The only thing he knew at the moment was that he and his crew were still alive.

"No damage, Captain," reported tactical, not sounding entirely confident. "Our present speed is...warp seven."

Riker smiled and addressed the ship's computer. "Computer, is it just me, or is all of this happening really slowly?"

 _A wormhole that has formed in the Contagion's engineering section, altering your perception of time._

"So it's not just me. How did the wormhole form?"

 _Theory: The introduction of the Enterprise warp field in the interior of the Contagion has created a temporary time distortion, forming a fast collapsing wormhole._

"Wow. How are we still alive?"

 _Unknown, Commander._

"Captain," he corrected the computer with an annoyed shrug. Suddenly the turbo lift doors swished open and Deanna Troi sauntered onto the bridge. Riker knew before turning around that she was there, and so he was already smiling when they locked eyes.

Troi smiled back triumphantly. "We did it," she declared.

" _We_? I just saved your ass!"

To his annoyance, Troi sat down in the captain's chair. But he had to admit she looked good there. "Noted," she said. "But why are we inside Crusher's ship, moving at a snail's pace?"

"I wanted to humiliate her with an epic move."

"Well...I hope we all survive long enough so that we can gloat about our victory to her face. Beverly is more useful to us alive than dead, Will. You know that."

He cleared his throat. "Of course...tactical, lock onto the Admiral's coordinates and beam her into a detention cell."

"That reminds me, Will. You beamed over the rest of Crusher's prisoners, not just me, and they are now roaming the ship. Might want to do something about that..."

Irritated by her perceptiveness he waved at an anonymous crew member wearing a red shirt. "Take care of the prisoner situation," he ordered. Will approached Troi, looking her over with almost genuine concern. "Were you injured?"

Troi looked up at him with a brilliant smile. "A slight head injury...but I'm beginning to feel myself again."

* * *

 _ **Stargazer Re-fit in Orbit around Terra**_

Geordi gazed in silent shock out of the viewport at the carnage he was witnessing. Hundreds of Borg cubes were systematically dismantling and cutting up the Terran ships which had dutifully returned to Terra as ordered by the assimilated Emperor Data. The Enterprise and Contagion, he knew, were not among those unfortunate ships and crews. Had the Borg taken the crews for assimilation beforehand, or were those people just being incinerated in front of the tiny Stargazer crew?

"What are we even saving anymore?" Wesley cried out. "There's nothing left of the Fleet!"

"Not all of the Fleet has reported in," Geordi said, trying to keep his anxiety at bay by checking a terminal. "We can try and warn the other ships." He began to type into the console. "I'm sending out a transmission right now."

"Wait!" Jack Crusher grabbed LaForge by the shoulder. "You're not sending a damn thing without my say-so."

Geordi shrugged off his grip. "I'm trying to warn the rest of the Fleet, Jack. Keep up with your paranoia, and there will be no one left for us to save."

Jack backed up. "Fine. But we need to get down to the surface to gain access to Data. Time is running out."

"Done. I've warned the ships off. Whether they listen is up to them." Geordi turned back around. "Now what... _Boss_?"

"We use the cube-killing weapon," said Jack resolutely.

"In order to use it effectively we need to be out of cloak," said Wesley. "And right now, the cloaking device is the only thing that's keeping us alive."

"You got another problem." They turned their attention to Pots, who was for the moment standing at the tactical station. "Check out Headquarters." He put the image up on the main viewer. What used to be the structural complex for the headquarters of the Terran Empire was now covered in a dome of black material.

"What is it?" Wesley asked.

"Who knows? Some kind of Borg gunk. Whatever it is, sensors can't penetrate it. Put simply, we can't tell if Data's even in there or not."

"We have to assume he is," said Geordi. "Look the only information I have was on his former location and the systems they were using to control his positronic net. If he's been moved, we'll have to start from scratch."

"The Stargazer can drop below the atmosphere. We can beam you down from there, and you can capture Data's head," Jack said, glaring at Geordi.

LaForge slapped his chest. " _Me_? Alone? You're insane."

Jack tilted his head. "Probably. But I'm sure as hell not sending my only son down there to die."

Wesley stepped forward. "No Dad. I'm going with him."

"I feel so much safer now," Geordi muttered.

Jack hesitated and looked back at Pots who shrugged casually. Your decision, Boss."

Strangely, Jack pulled up his sleeve and appeared to be contemplating the Romulan tattoo on his forearm. "Okay. Whatever we need to do."

* * *

 _ **USS Enterprise**_

Commander Riker had stepped toward the turbo lift when Ensign McKnight gestured excitedly from tactical. "Commander, wait! I'm receiving an incoming subspace signal from several sectors away. It's encoded for your eyes only sir."

Riker moved quickly back to the command center and typed into the armrest. "What the hell?" he whispered, as he read the repetitive pattern of letters and numbers on the tiny screen. "It's him," he said in a louder voice. "It's the Captain." His immediate feelings of exhilaration were cut short by reality, as he remembered that they currently had no navigational control.

"How long would it take us at maximum warp to reach the origin of that transmission, Ensign?"

"Twenty minutes, sir."

He clenched his fist, and hit the com link. "Geordi, are you and Worf in the core yet?"

 _"Almost, Commander."_

 _"_ Alright, there's been a change of plans. I'll remain here on the bridge. I want you to prioritize regaining full control of propulsion and navigation. Let me know as soon as you've achieved that."

 _"Understood."_


	62. Chapter 62

**Chapter 61**

 ** _USS Enterprise_**

Wesley was groggy but nearly on his feet when he saw his mother beginning to stir into consciousness. Counselor Troi was also awake and helping a crew member to his feet.

Dazed, Wes moved to help his mother get to her feet. Beverly immediately ran her tricorder over him. "The drug Yar used on us will be out of our systems soon enough...with no lasting effects, I hope. Are you alright?" Wesley nodded silently, and she pulled him into a tight embrace. So much had happened recently, so many close calls, that he didn't feel the need to let go of her.

Across the room, Captain Louvois was speaking to a young security officer who Wesley recognized was the man who had shot Picard prior to Yar's entrance into sickbay.

Things seemed like they were starting to return to normal, when Yar walked back into sickbay. For the first time not openly hostile, her disruptor was holstered, and a red energy shield covered her from head to toe. She showed no sense of urgency, and absolutely no fear. Still her features remained tense and suspicious. She walked over the the main entrance of sickbay and attached a squarish object to the door. The object beeped after a moment, emitting a blinking green light. Then she turned unceremoniously to address the occupants of sickbay.

"This door is now armed to explode if anyone tries to open it from the inside. Anyone trying it from the outside will find it locked. As long as you stay within the confines of sickbay I don't care what you do. Soon enough, Captain Picard will control this entire ship, and nothing you can do from here or anywhere else will stop him, so do what you please. But if I were you" she added, "I'd stay on his good side."

"Does he have one?" Beverly blurted out suddenly. It was an honest question, although she thought she already had guessed the answer.

Yar turned to look at her, and there was a dead silence. Beverly maintained eye contact with Yar, and to her surprise the young woman began to laugh, as though she had never heard a funnier joke. Gradually, she sobered, and then shook her head in silent amusement as she strolled back in the direction she'd come in.

Lieutenant Singh, the last surviving security officer from the battle in the corridor, and the officer who had shot Picard, looked as though he wanted to lunge at Yar. Ignoring him she pulled a chair back to the entrance of the hallway she and Picard had escaped from and sat down without saying a word.

Singh immediately approached her. "Move aside," he demanded.

Yar unholstered her weapon and placed it on her thigh speaking very calmly. "I can shoot out of this barrier, but your little phaser beam won't even come close to piercing it. Understand?"

Captain Louvois had moved up to stand next to Lieutenant Singh. Yar studied her cagily, before apparently deciding she was not a threat.

"You killed my officers," Singh was able to angrily choke out.

"They were too slow," Yar said. "You should have trained them better."

Yar didn't flinch when Lieutenant Singh jumped to strike at her, but Louvois quickly restrained him. "No, Lieutenant! This isn't the way."

"You need to listen to her... she's your captain," Yar said with a surprisingly respectful tone.

Louvois pointed at Yar. "I'm Captain Louvois. Who are you, and what are you doing here?"

"I'm a Terran," Yar said simply, tapping the disruptor with her fingertips. "Captain Picard requires your cooperation and loyalty. Anything else is punishable by death."

"Is that why you obey his every command, no matter the cost, Tasha? Because you are afraid of death?"

Yar shot out of her seat at the sound of Deanna Troi's voice. Her disruptor now clenched tightly in her fist, Tasha felt herself beginning to panic. She hadn't counted on Troi being present there, but she'd been a fool not to. She stood very still but her eyes followed the Betazoid as Troi circled. "I'm not here for mind games," warned Yar, speaking more to the rest of the room than to Deanna. "I have no intention of hurting anyone here...just don't try and interfere with us."

Troi kept her own surprise at Yar's reaction well hidden. _She's absolutely frightened of me. But there's something else much more subtle. I would be foolish not to capitalize on her familiarity with me...or rather her familiarity with my counterpart._ She stepped closer, and Yar without hesitation raised the pistol and pointed it directly at Troi's forehead.

"Listen up, everyone," she called out, no longer sounding calm or composed. "I'm giving you five seconds to get her away from me and out of my sight. This is not a game."

Beverly grabbed Deanna and yanked her away. Yar immediately lowered the weapon to her side, and looked noticeably relieved.

She sat back down slowly in her chair, then looked down, seemingly uninterested with the goings on inside of sickbay.

"Her only concern is Picard's safety," Deanna whispered to Crusher. "I sense she will follow through on her threats if necessary, but she is simply under orders to wait for him, and wants us to leave her alone."

"Oh, I have no intention of bothering her," said Crusher. Beverly locked eyes with Phillipa, gesturing silently toward her office. Yar glanced over at them with no obvious interest. Just then, Carmen walked hesitantly out of an adjacent room, anxiously hugging Jeanette to her chest. Beverly waved for her to stay put, but Yar merely watched intently as the nurse walked slowly over to Beverly. Beverly took the baby and as confidently as possible walked toward her office.

* * *

Once inside her office, Beverly hugged Jeanette tightly, shutting her eyes. She felt Wesley put his hand on her upper back, trying to comfort her. It was unfathomable that they were in this situation; held hostage by two deadly individuals from an even deadlier universe. Feeling stunned by his experiences over the last day, Wesley nearly fell into a nearby chair. He ran his hands through his hair and stared at the wall. He considered telling his mother about what had happened just outside of sickbay...his strange journey to another time or place, where he had interacted with the Terran version of Picard in the strangest way. Picard he knew had experienced the same thing, and yet he couldn't imagine how or why it had happened. Thinking of Picard again, he gritted his teeth in frustration. If only he could communicate with Riker. "I know what he's going to do, Mom," he said looking up at her. "He's going to try and take control of the entire ship."

Beverly merely shook her head and closed her eyes again, kissing the baby on the cheek and swayed back and forth slightly, attempting to soothe herself with the baby's nearness.

Louvois moved to sit on the edge of the desk, looking down at Wesley. "What do you mean, Wes? How?"

Wesley glanced at Troi who had just walked in with Carmen. He sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "He's got a port on the back of his neck. It...it looks like it might be a Borg implant."

Beverly stopped and stared at her son. "What?"

"It's some kind of cybernetic implant, Mom. If you got a good look at it, I'm sure you would be able to identify it. But he can channel energy from the ship-connect with the ship's computer. That's how he's done what he's done so far to lock off whole portions of the ship."

"He shouldn't be able to survive that kind of energy transfer," Crusher said in disbelief. "And aside from that he must be insane to subject himself to that kind of experience."

"Whatever he is," said Troi, "he is focused and determined to gain control of this ship. He seems almost desperate to do so."

"But is he under the control of the Borg?" Beverly questioned.

"On the contrary," said Troi. "I sensed that he is proud of his cybernetic technology, and seems to at least believe he is acting of his own volition. He is seeking to prove something...although it is not clear to whom."

Beverly sat down, cradling Jeanette in her arms. The only direct experience she had with Borg assimilation was by treating Jean-Luc who had been taken against his will and subjected to horrific experimentation and mutilation. The experience that Jean-Luc had gone through...well it was unbelievable that anyone would choose to undergo such a thing. "He must be insane," she repeated.

"Maybe we'll get lucky and he'll kill himself then," said Louvois.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the whole room, which was surprisingly broken by Carmen, who cleared her throat.

"Um...I have something to tell you, Doctor. It's about Jeanette."

Beverly looked up sharply. "What is it?"

Jeanette's nurse quickly attempted to explain the baby's strange behavior in the minutes before the Terrans invaded sickbay. She also finally revealed her experience with the strange grey-skinned man, who of course Beverly, Wesley and Troi recognized as the Traveler.

Beverly sat in growing disbelief as she listened to the description of what her infant daughter had done.

Wesley stood up. "Wait a minute, wait a minute. _She_ did that?"

"Wesley?" Beverly was now afraid to ask what else had possibly happened that she didn't yet know about.

"I-I was running down the hall as fast as I could. Captain Picard-the Terran one, was chasing me. Right as we reached sickbay, I felt myself lifted into the air, and I was inside this kind of...energy bubble. It's the only way I know how to describe it. And I could see that the exact same thing was happening to the Captain. Then just like that I was in another place. It was this really dark landscape, like on some weird planet, and I was hanging from this really high cliff. The Captain was holding onto me, telling me I had to trust him. And the strangest part is...I was holding onto Data's head."

Beverly stared up at him and then looked down at her daughter who was sleeping soundly on her shoulder. "What do you think this all means?" she whispered.

"Well, for starters, none of us have had an hour of sleep in two days," Louvois said, pacing around the room.

"You can't be serious, Captain," said Crusher. "Carmen and Wesley actually experienced these events. They weren't hallucinating," she insisted. "Besides, Jeanette has shown accelerated physical and mental development since she came into our lives."

Confused and skeptical, Louvois looked to Troi for help.

"I would have to agree with Beverly, Captain. During our encounter with the Borg cube and after Yar rammed our ship with the Terran star drive, an anomaly of some kind was identified coming from Beverly's quarters. Data determined that the anomaly prevented a hull breach and actually stopped time in that area of the ship. And now both Wesley and the Terran Picard were literally thrown into another dimension, if only temporarily, returning unharmed; meanwhile Carmen observed Jeanette exhibiting strange powers. It would seem that Jeanette, despite her young age, is trying to tell us all something quite important."

* * *

 **Inside the Computer Core**

Picard materialized inside a large chamber full of whirring instruments and computer panels. The wound on his arm had re-opened during transport, and as he raced frantically around the room trying to find the cable Yar had told him about, he left a trail of blood in his wake. The implant, surprisingly did some of the work for him, and just as his gaze rested on a maze of cables set into the wall, the Borg implant began to buzz, sending a bizarre vibration from the base of his skull down the length of his spine. He reached a panel and began to enter a command code, trying to remember Yar's instructions to him. Once he was done, he almost tripped over his own boots to try and reach the cable, when there was a rush of air and the clamor of footsteps entering the room.

"Hey!"

Picard spun at the sound of an all-too familiar voice. Geordi LaForge stood with two technicians in the entrance to the computer core. For his part, LaForge seemed so shocked to see Picard, that he froze. But Picard, seeing the spitting image of his nemesis, immediately went into action, rushing the engineer. "You!" he shouted, barreling into LaForge, and sending him crashing into the wall.

A phaser blast skimmed over his head, and he rolled to the right, glimpsing a Klingon. Dimly he recalled that he had fired his disruptor at Worf when he and Yar had arrived on this ship for the first time. Sadly, the Klingon was still alive. Picard came up firing his disruptor, but one of the technicians grabbed his ankles, sending him flopping to the floor, and knocking the wind out of him, in the process loosening the pistol from his grip. He saw LaForge scramble toward a control panel, and so he kicked the technician away, as he pursued LaForge with renewed vigor. He was about to leap on LaForge from behind, when he was grabbed around the chest by Worf, and lifted into the air.

Kicking his legs outward, he pushed off the wall, sending the Klingon careening backwards onto the floor. Worf slammed Picard in the forehead with his heavy arm, which caused Picard's vision to dim, but the duranium plate in the Captain's head held; something Worf of course could not have anticipated. Picard, whipped the agonizer from his belt and thrust it into Worf's chest. The Klingon roared in pain, and Picard rolled away. LaForge was shouting into a com link, alerting Riker to Picard's presence.

The Captain could think of nothing in that moment other than to see LaForge dead, but then the implant began to buzz in his neck again, nearly sending him to the floor with the force of it. Slipping on a floor now slick with his own blood, he lunged for the nest of cables in the wall, just opposite LaForge, and yanked one out of the wall. It had the right markings, so before he allowed himself to reconsider, he plunged it into the back of his neck. Everything around him went black, but he could still hear LaForge shouting. "Shut it down! Shut it down!" And then he heard nothing more.


	63. Chapter 63

**Chapter 62**

Beverly Crusher peered down at him, and he was laying on a biobed inside some kind of forcefield.

"What a beautiful sight. I must be dreaming."

She made what could only be taken as a disgusted face and stepped away to address her companion. "He's awake," she said flatly, with nothing more than the most basic clinical concern.

He had been listening to the conversations for some time, but had only just decided to open his eyes. Conversations about the ship losing power since the incident in the computer core. No navigation, no propulsion. Aside from limited auxiliary power, the ship was in a sort of coma, and all because of him.

Aside from the back of his neck hurting, he felt fine. The power that had coursed through him during his link up with the computer core had knocked him out, but somehow he was still alive, although he was no longer in control of the ship. For the moment. He propped himself up on his elbows. "What's this I hear about my lovely _Enterprise_ not working?"

Will Riker walked toward him so quickly that it was clear he had been waiting for this moment of confrontation for some time. There was a hard look in the man's eyes, but even more significant, Picard noted the beginnings of desperation. "You've sabotaged this ship," Riker snapped.

Picard smiled. "Nonsense. The ship is fine."

"The ship is _nonfunctional_ , at best," Riker shouted. "What was the purpose of doing what you did?"

"I have a special relationship to this ship-"

"This isn't your ship!"

Picard was not bothered at all by Riker's anger. "In any universe, it is clear the Enterprise and I were meant to be. Even if my other relationships are not so certain." He smiled at Beverly, who merely glared back at him. "As I was saying... I have a special relationship to this vessel, and was merely getting to know her better. Intimately." He sat up cross legged on the bed. There was very little clearance between his head and the top of the restraint field, but he supposed that was what they'd intended and preferred. Compared to Terran constraints this was almost pleasant. In fact, he was thinking about his good fortune when he absently placed his palm on the back of his neck to touch the implant. Instead, he felt only a metallic bump, evidencing the port had changed significantly since he was last awake. Immediately panicked and enraged, Picard began to shout accusations at his Starfleet captors. "What have you done?"

Beverly kept her distance. "Besides bringing you back from a self induced coma...I scanned you, that's all. But I see that you're upset. Did you enjoy having a Borg implant?"

"Did I _enjoy_ it?" He slammed his fist into the top of the energy field. "Did I? Tell me, doctor...where has it gone? Did you perform surgery on me while I was unconscious?"

Beverly glanced at Riker, who shook his head. "No," said Beverly. "...as I said, I merely scanned you. And what I found was that you have a very complex network of internal Borg implants which appears to be spreading throughout your body. The port on the back of your neck is now sealed, however. I have no idea why."

"That is absolutely ridiculous," he snarled. Beverly walked carefully around his bed and over to a wall full of readouts.

She brought up a scanned image of his skeletal form, complete with all of his muscles and sinews. "This is you," she said choosing to look at the diagram, rather than him. "The duranium plate in your head is interesting...and inconsistent with the other cybernetic technologies that are fusing with your tissues. This is distinctly Borg technology, but more advanced than what I've encountered before. If I were you I would be concerned. Humanoid tissue can only take so much."

Picard tried to remain calm. What did she mean the implants were spreading? What was happening to him? He had to stay in control. She was trying to throw him off. He thought about what the Admiral had said to him...about the Borg. He could distinctly hear her voice in his head. _You are going to be integral to the fall of the Terran Empire...you deluded fool._

The Borg wanted him for some reason. He'd volunteered to have the implant, and in truth didn't remember a thing about the process. He had reported to Headquarters one day, and then the next thing he knew was that he had woken up on a cold floor, and the implant was in the back of his neck. He thought he had obtained it in order to improve the efficiency of the Enterprise's tactical systems. And it had worked. Of course then he'd lost his ship, but the implant had responded well to the Lesser Enterprise. Certainly it had been dangerous to use, but what was life without danger and risk? Nothing! But now the implant was gone, or had changed...evolved perhaps into something that had invaded his body. And even worse, from his point of view, he had lost control of the Lesser Enterprise and her crew. Still his instinct told him that he still had a very important card to play, even if he did not hold the best hand.

Riker pulled up a chair close to the forcefield. "While you're letting this all sink in to your duranium plated head...you should know that there are two Borg ships headed our way. Got that? We have a comatose ship and almost certain death headed our way."

"Yes, but I am a Terran. And we Terrans are currently allied with the Borg."

Beverly laughed abruptly and tossed her tricorder on a nearby table before walking to the other side of the room.

"Oh, you find that amusing, do you?" He called after her.

"No I find it _sad_. You're delusional! There is no such thing as having an alliance with the Borg. _Captain Picard_ would understand that."

"Oh he would, would he?"

"Yes."

"Well, my dear-"

"Don't call me that", she warned him stiffly.

" _I_ am Captain Picard," he reassured her.

"No...I don't accept that. You are the exact opposite of him in every way."

"Oh, in every way? You sound very certain of that, Doctor."

"I am."

Riker leaned over the chair. "Can we focus on the problem here? Dr. Crusher is right. You don't have an alliance with the Borg, and even if you did, it doesn't change the fact that you are on board the USS Enterprise; a ship which the Borg from our universe are very familiar with. Which means you are at risk as much as we are."

 _Perhaps he's right...not that I will admit it!_ "If you are so frightened of the Borg, Billy, then why don't you move the ship out of harm's way? You're back in control now, aren't you?"

 _Billy._ Riker rubbed the bridge of his nose and stared down at the floor wondering just how long they would have before the Borg were hanging motionless a few thousand meters away. "It would be a real shame if I wasted what little auxiliary power we have to keep you alive," he said tiredly.

"I'm not an empath, but I sense that you are waiting for something more from me," Picard said slowly. "But it's as though you are hesitant to _ask_..."

"If you think I'm going to _beg_ for help from you, you're wrong."

"The fact that we are even having this conversation Riker, shows that you believe I still have the power to control this vessel. Or rather, you fear that I am the only one at this point who can get us to safety. Perhaps you would like me to try to link up with the ship again...but you are concerned that I will do something you don't approve of...something out of your control. Is that right?"

Riker worked his jaw angrily. "Yes."

Picard smiled. "I would need a chance to test the capability of my implant which I cannot do within these confines." He gestured upward and his palm accidentally grazed the top of the containment field, which to everyone's surprise, immediately snapped off. "Aha! Well, look at that," Picard said, sliding down from the table onto the floor. He laughed again when he saw the looks of horror on Riker and Crusher's faces. He waved his palm at them. "It appears my implant has evolved, so to speak."

Riker tapped his communicator. "Riker to Worf."

Worf stepped in a moment later, and had apparently been just outside the room. Picard locked eyes with the Klingon aggressively. "Back for more punishment, Klingon?"

Worf said nothing, but simply shot Riker a dangerous look. "Why is the containment field down?"

"He touched it with his palm and it just deactivated," Riker replied, not taking his eyes off Picard. "It seems the ship's computer still responds to him, after all."

Picard went back to studying his palm with open curiosity. Worf took a step toward him, and Picard took a side step toward a wall panel, placing his palm against it. "Full power to sick bay," he said. Immediately the dimmed lights were more vibrant, and there was an audible hum as monitors and equipment returned to full power. "Computer, where is Lieutenant Yar?"

 _Lieutenant Yar is in detention cell 12A._

"I see." Yar would be wondering about him and if he was alive. But Yar was a loyal soldier and would wait indefinitely for him. What he needed to do first, was to secure this ship again. He could control the ship, perhaps, but he could not control her crew...not without manipulation.

"You didn't expect us to lock her up? She _killed_ several of our security officers," snapped Riker.

Picard smiled slightly, but said nothing, just watched Riker for a moment more. "Computer, who is the Captain of this vessel?"

 _Captain Jean-Luc Picard._

"Identify my voice, computer."

 _You are Captain Jean-Luc Picard._

"See? The computer is not confused about my identity."

"Computer, why are propulsion and navigation down?" Riker said, crossing his arms.

 _Awaiting authorization._

"Computer, bring all systems back on line," Riker ordered.

 _Awaiting authorization,_ the computer repeated.

Picard walked back to the bio bed and leaned on it casually. "Computer, are there any other ships in this sector?"

 _There are two vessels identifiable as Borg cubes, traveling in this sector on an interception course with the Enterprise. Estimated time of arrival is ten minutes, six seconds._

Riker slapped his communicator. "Geordi, I need all propulsion and navigation systems on line, now!"

 _"Sorry, Commander, the computer is wired differently now, and some of the systems look almost foreign. Every command I give it, it informs me it is waiting for authorization. The Terrans still have control."_

"As much as I loathe giving him any credit, LaForge is right," Picard said. "The computer will listen only to me, which is why _you_ must listen to me, if you want to survive." Inside, he began to feel panic. _The Borg are searching for me. I need to take this ship away from here, but it has to be on my terms._

Riker lifted his hands. "I'm listening."

"I'll agree to move the ship. But you must agree to travel where I wish."

Riker shook his head vehemently. "Not happening. You've already captured five of our ships, which resulted in most of their crews either being murdered or assimilated by the Borg...you've kidnapped Captain Picard and Commander Data. Now why the hell would we willingly go where you take us?"

Picard sighed, and sat down on the bio bed. "First of all, I am flattered...touched even, that you attribute all of that trouble-making to me, Bill. But I wasn't the one who captured your ships...that was Deanna Troi, who managed to bring them all in through a series of ion stations. Did I exploit their capture for my own gains? Of course! Did I allow certain conditions to arise which would put your ship and crew in danger? Yes. But as far as your Picard and Data being taken, well, I'm now familiar with a man who passed himself off as Jack Crusher...and I happen to know he's to blame for that." He looked around at their faces, genuinely curious about the visible anger the very mention of that individual caused. "Beverly...how would it make you feel to know that this faux Jack is still alive, and influencing the actions of your counterpart? And not only that, but Captain Picard and Data sit in detention cells, experiencing any number of different tortures, which your counterpart inflicts on them?"

Beverly brought her hand to her chest, and stared with a vacant expression at the wall.

"We'd only be willing to travel to locate the Captain," said Riker. "Is that what you're promising?"

Picard's gaze flicked toward Beverly. "What I have to say involves Doctor Crusher. I'll speak with her alone."

Beverly looked at him with defiance in her gaze. "Oh, no you won't."

Picard shook his head. "Alright. Fine." He slipped off the table and walked across the room. Worf was in action immediately, but Picard held up his hand. "Don't come any closer, Klingon! I have no intention of attacking Doctor Crusher, but I _must_ speak with her."

Worf halted, but pulled out his phaser with a low growl.

Picard had approached to within ten feet of Beverly when she pointed at him. "That's far enough. You nearly killed my son...if you think I am going to speak to you rationally, you're mistaken."

"Oh, Wesley was never at risk of death while under my care," he said slyly.

"Under your _care_...you are a very twisted man." She found her voice shaking, now that he was standing closer to her. She struggled to contain both her fear and hatred of someone who looked exactly like the man she loved.

He shrugged. "Fair enough." He rubbed the side of his beard, still watching her. "Perhaps you and I are alike, Doctor. Perhaps we share something in common besides our undeniable sexual chemistry."

She laughed shakily and stepped to the side using an examination bed as a barrier. "Like what?"

"What would you say if I told you I know who killed your husband all those years ago? What would you say if I told you that I too have reason to avenge myself against this person who took away the most precious people in both of our lives?" His voice caught unexpectedly with emotion, as the memories came back to him. "Are you also motivated by revenge, Beverly?"

"No," she said. "I'm not like you at all."

"Really? What would you say if I told you that the same man who killed my child...my precious daughter, is not only responsible for the death of your Jack Crusher thirteen years ago, but also lured your ship and crew into the very situation you are seeking to escape from at this moment?"

"I would ask you who-who is this person?"

"I will take you to him," said Picard. "And we will both have our revenge."


	64. Chapter 64

**Chapter 63**

 **Inside the Mirror Universe:**

 _ **USS Enterprise**_

"I told you...I'm not seeking revenge. If I was, I would probably go after you first," Beverly said to the Terran Picard. She glanced over at Riker and Worf, and noted that Phillippa Louvois had now entered sickbay. Somehow it seemed fitting that such a surreal dialogue would have an audience.

He frowned. "You still blame me for the disappearance of your Picard...unfortunately for you and the rest of your silly crew, you cannot seem to understand that I have only your best interests in mind."

"Prove it," she challenged.

His smile grew wider. "How about I begin by telling you that your husband didn't die in a tragic accident. He was _murdered_." He watched as Beverly Crusher attempted to ascertain whether he was telling the truth. "Of course, I had no idea of the truth myself, until I met the man who faked his way into your lives by pretending to be Jack. It is that man who is responsible for the capture of your dear Jean-Luc...oh and of course your Terran double," he reminded her easily before sitting down on the edge of the bio bed. "She always gets what she wants. Are you the same way, I wonder?"

Beverly merely tilted her head at him, prompting him to continue. She just wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. Something he loved about her in any universe. "We come from different universes, Beverly, but perhaps the intricate web that caught Jack and Beverly and I for so many years would be familiar to you." She said nothing, but he could tell he had struck a nerve, so he continued. "Thirteen years ago, when Wesley was just a young lad, Beverly and I had a torrid affair behind Jack's back. It wasn't the first affair, nor was it the most torrid, come to think of it. But...it was the last. The affair lasted for some time, and eventually Beverly split from Jack, for good, she swore, although it was more like her to keep all of her options open. She hadn't foreclosed returning to him, but then we had a child together. It changed everything. You understand...don't you?"

Beverly sighed, and sat down in a chair. She stared down at the floor for a moment before raising her eyes to him again. "Go on."

"The baby was hidden with me on my ship. Jack, in a jealous rage, ambushed me, and my ship was destroyed. He beamed me out ahead of time so that I could watch it explode. He didn't want to kill me-just humiliate me. 'Surprised, Jean-Luc?' I remember him saying. I was unable to save my child or the rest of my crew. Jack claimed that he hadn't known about the baby's existence, but that didn't matter to me. Once he let me go out of pity..." He trailed off. "You see, I fell to my knees and _cried_ on the deck of his ship the _Stargazer_. The first and last time I will ever weep." He shrugged, aware that Beverly was staring at him now. "It was Jack's mistake to let me go, because I hunted him down again, made his life a living hell. Beverly made very clear to him that to her he was now a non-person, completely expendable, and that Wesley would be better off without such a hapless, useless father."

"Jack's plot to escape into the Lesser Universe-your universe was discovered only after he failed to effectuate his plan. At the time, he was publicly shamed, both for killing a helpless child, and for running, fleeing to the Lesser Universe. What none of us ever realized, was that he had been very close to achieving his goal. It wasn't until I met the _Faux_ Jack Crusher, and he filled in the blanks that he had learned through his stay with you-it was not until then that I learned that our Jack had witnessed the death of your husband Jack thirteen years ago. In fact, I was completely ignorant of your lives in that world. Imagine how my eyes have been opened!" Seeing that Beverly remained stoic, he continued. "By luring the Lesser Stargazer to an ion station in your universe, he had intended on taking the place of the Lesser Jack, but once he saw that his ploy had caused his counterpart to be gravely injured, he decided against following through. It is my theory, as well that Jack saw the Vulcan woman Faux Jack told me about..."

"T'Pel," Beverly said faintly, still staring at the floor.

"Yes, odd that she doesn't have a counterpart that I know of...in any case, it's highly likely that Jack knew that the Vulcan woman had spotted him, and he must have realized that the timing was all wrong. If there is one thing Jack is not, it is stupid. So he abandoned his little project."

"And my husband _died_ ," Beverly said coldly, raising her chin to face him. She stood up. "This is all a game to you, isn't it? All of it! You give me information, and I-we do your bidding. Well, it's not going to happen that way." He stood partially in her path, but she shoved him aside, and walked over to Riker.

Riker could read her well enough to know that she had just come to a decision. "Beverly," he said quietly, taking her hands in his. "This ship is in danger. You're the only one who can safely hook him back up to the ship. Just this one time...so we can get control back."

She shook her head once. "Will...do what you need to do. But if the solution involves _him,_ you're going to have to do it without me." With a backward glance at Picard, she turned and left sickbay.

* * *

 **A few sectors away on the** **Admiral's Imperial Shuttle**

Jean-Luc had just managed to send a distress signal through subspace. At the very least, he would be able to communicate through a channel that the Will Riker of his universe would recognize and understand that he and Data were alive. For now it was the most he could hope for. At least it was the most he could have hoped for until the perimeter alert began to blare. "An unidentified ship has just appeared on our sensors," warned Picard. A sleek disk shape, it was only just readable on the sensors, and was barely visible to the eye out in the blackness of space.

"Oh no…." Jenice rushed forward. "It's Riker's ship."

" _That's_ the saucer section?" Picard spun his chair toward Data. It didn't even remotely resemble the identical vessel he had seen briefly in the battle against the Borg cube. "I need warp speed... now, Data," he said with quiet resolve.

Data remained fixated on the controls of the Admiral's ship. "This shuttle now appears to be malfunctioning Captain. I believe our systems are being sabotaged..."

There was a flash of multi colored lights outside the window the origin of which they could now see was in fact the hull of the _IMS Contagion_ which the saucer section had just emerged from.

"The whole damn thing is collapsing into a wormhole," Picard whispered in awe, staring as Crusher's ship continued its disintegration into a swirling mass. "Get us out of here, Data...Data?" He turned to see that the android was encased in a web of white electricity. Hoping he could somehow avert disaster, he cut off power to the propulsion systems, and to his relief the electric field disappeared. But then there was a knocking sound, as though someone was tapping on the bulkhead.

Just as Data seemed to be recovering, a large piece of metal flew past the shuttle's nose. Then another, and then the impossible sound of ripping metal filled the interior of the ship.

"Captain, we appear to be under the control of an extremely powerful tractor beam," Data reported. "The source is the saucer section. I am rerouting all power to the nacelles for emergency warp."

The knocking persisted, and then there was a crash and a cloud of smoke enveloped the inside of the shuttle. The captain and Jenice raced to put out the fires that had begun to break out inside the ship.

"Riker is ripping this ship apart piece by piece," Jenice screamed into his ear as the clamor increased.

"She is correct, Captain. As such, we have limited structural integrity...warp is now inadvisable."

"He doesn't care who's in here...and he must not want the ship either." He eyed Jenice questioningly. She seemed to have a familiarity with Riker despite her apparent seclusion in Crusher's quarters. It seemed clearer to him that there was more to Jenice than met the eye, which meant that in this universe he could not afford to trust her. But for now, he still needed her knowledge to navigate this world.

"Jean-Luc, he is just toying with us. You have no idea what depravity Riker is truly capable of," she said seriously, still holding the disruptor rifle tightly in her hands. "I pray that you do not find out."

There was a screeching whine, and then a violent rush of air coming from the back of the ship. _Warning. Outer Hull breach._

 _I think I just found out._ Fueled now only by the need to survive, Picard ran to an emergency supply area, and rummaged through a crate full of loose items. He managed to find two small oxygen masks, dimly aware that Data would not need one. He tossed one to Jenice, who immediately pulled it over her face. There was a look of hard defiance in her eyes, and another whooshing sound ripped through the ship's hold as the inner hull was punctured. He was aware of being catapulted into the wall and hitting his head soundly, before a sharp chill enveloped his body along with blackness. _Goodbye Beverly._

* * *

 _ **Hey, thanks for reading and reviewing! I will try and post more soon. -PP**_


	65. Chapter 65

**Chapter 64**

 _ **ISS Enterprise Saucer Section**_

"How does it feel down there on that cold floor?" The voice was overly confident, and gloating; even more so than usual. "I've taken your ship, your title, and soon enough I'll have your pride...impressed yet?"

"My title," she mumbled, eyes still closed. "You can never take it from me. I earned my rank. You can call yourself an Admiral all day Riker, but you're nothing but a tool. As for my pride...that's another story entirely."

"Think again, _Bev_...there is no Terran Empire left. No one who used to care about your rank or state of the art ship is even around to care anymore. And your crew, which you so selflessly beamed over to my saucer, immediately swore allegiance to me."

"And to me, of course." Riker glanced over his shoulder as his colleague swayed unhurriedly into the detention cell.

"Will is right," Troi said, crouching down next to Beverly Crusher's prone form. "The reports are coming in from Terra. The Borg have taken over your beloved home planet and 85 percent of our Fleet has been destroyed. Time for you to decide whether you want to remain on the losing side, Beverly."

Crusher's eyes fluttered open. "Screw you, Deanna."

Troi smiled and leaned in. "While you were catching up on your beauty sleep, I read your one track mind. I know Jack Crusher is alive, and I know that either before or _after_ you kill him, you intend on capturing Emperor Data's head to gain power for yourself. I can't exactly say why...because you don't even know why, do you? What you do know, is that it is Jack's plan, and you intend on co-opting it. You think he is insane, and will be easily overpowered." Beverly blinked as her predicament began to sink in. "You see...my head injury has healed quite nicely. In fact, I find that my telepathic powers have increased considerably. Would you like a demonstration? Perhaps later?"

Beverly closed her eyes again, as her vision was still cloudy. Her disorientation from the emergency transport out of the wormhole had not subsided, and Deanna Troi's overwhelming perfume didn't help either. She presumed that she was being held in the detention area of the Enterprise saucer section. _My ship is gone...my former crew, nothing but a bunch of traitors. But I survived, and Troi and Riker are fools to keep me alive. If the Terran Empire is truly in ruins, what exactly do Troi and Riker have planned? And is my son still alive?_ She knew she could not ask those questions out loud without losing the last remnants of her dignity...at least not yet. No, it was better to wait and strike when the time was right. LaForge would contact her when it was possible to do so. Eighty-five percent of the Fleet gone meant that there was still fiteen percent to be saved from destruction by the Borg. And the territories, of course. The Klingons would want concessions, as was typical of them. But she could still make a grab for control of what was left. If LaForge was alive, he would remain loyal, wouldn't he?

 _"Commander Troi..."_

Troi stood up, turning her attention away from Riker and Crusher and to the communications link. "What is it?"

 _"Security here. We found a stranger roaming the corridors. He appears to have been hiding, but now he claims to want to talk to whoever is currently in charge. Says his name is M."_

* * *

 **Borg Occupied Terra**

Jack's plan to drop the ship below the Terran atmosphere had worked. The _Stargazer_ had only just slipped through Borg defenses in order to beam Geordi, Wesley and Pots into the innards of the newly fortified Borg-Terran Headquarters which housed the Emperor's chamber. Wesley, who stood near the entrance of the chamber holding a disruptor that was much too big for him. The teen was shaky, and still feeling the effects of Pots' experimental transporter. Thankfully, they had been able to beam directly into the chamber, where there were no Borg present.

"Only a Terran would invent a transporter that left out all considerations of safety protocols," he said.

"In my universe we call people like that sadists," Pots responded with a grin. The large human had been slowly walking the perimeter of the room for the last ten minutes, carrying some kind of small data collecting device in his fat fist. What he was doing was anyone's guess.

"In your universe, is everyone a disgusting slob?"

Post shrugged. "It's all relative."

"Right. Anyway, that shit really hurt," said Wes. "You might as well scrap the transporter idea and make it into a traveling torture device. If you haven't noticed, there's a huge market for those in this universe."

Pots lumbered to a halt, as he seemed to seriously consider that idea. "Thanks for the tip, Wessy."

"It's _Wesley_!"

"Shut up, both of you, alright?" LaForge shouted over his shoulder. "I'm trying to concentrate."

The immense room was a maze of hundreds of wires which cris-crossed one another, functioning individually only to serve the collective. Many of these led to the Emperor himself, who was now encased in a thin black film. Geordi could now see that the black film that covered both the former Terran Headquarters and Data was very advanced shielding technology, which seemed to be at least partly organic in composition. It also coated the walls of the room they were standing in, and he tried not to think too hard about how the stuff was made.

Jack's plan to sever Data's cranial unit had been a faulty one. The programming Geordi had uploaded into his Visor and implants just days ago at Wesley's insistence, was merely a copy of Data's operational schematics. The original program running at this very moment through the Emperor's artificial synapses had evolved since LaForge had last been here. Consequently, the engineer could not be even close to certain that he would be able to remove Data's head without alerting the Borg.

LaForge's fingertips were used to intricate work, and with the new implants in his hands and fingertips, he rarely needed his Visor anymore. But the stakes had never been higher, and he was all nerves. As he worked, he tried to keep an image of Beverly in his head. Her brilliantly scheming but alluring gaze would be reserved only for him if, and only if he was able to deliver Data's head as she had compelled him to do. As for his loyalty to Data, only a whisper of guilt remained inside his brain. _This is not my friend_ , he told himself. Not anymore. No, Data was just a shell of his former self. In fact, he was no longer a self at all. He was only a soulless machine used to run the main hive mind of the Borg. Data had possessed a soul in the old days. It had been a cold, calculating soul, but yes, it had been there.

"What the hell is taking you so long, Geordi?"

LaForge floated his fingertips over Data's dormant form. "The old program was no good, so I had to start all over again. I have to re-map his entire cerebral matrix. Without a complete map, I won't be able to replace his head with this dummy program. In about five minutes, I'll be done, and then I'll need your help. So get your disruptor ready."

Wesley looked down at the ugly looking weapon. There were only a few settings on this one. He messed around with the buttons, until he found the right beam amplitude. "This thing wasn't made for surgery," he complained. Deep down he was beginning to question why he had trusted his father this far. Even if they successfully removed Data's head, then what? Where would they go? What were they to do with it, and who was his father working for? Most importantly, how would all of this stop the Borg?

"You have one job," LaForge shot back. "As soon as I have substituted my matrix for his, you remove his cranial unit. Then we're out of here."

* * *

 _ **ISS Enterprise**_

Deanna stepped out into the hall with a renewed energy. Beverly Crusher was broken on the floor of a prison cell, and now she knew not only Beverly's plans, but the plans of LaForge, the Crusher boy, and his father, the surprisingly alive and apparently insane Jack Crusher. The problem was, Beverly's knowledge of the actual details of Jack's plan was extremely limited. It seemed that in her rush to gain power the renowned and feared doctor had cut considerable corners on her research.

Troi stood watchfully as her security officers marched a man down the hall. She had never met Jack Crusher before, but had seen plenty of holos. He had been a cunning Terran officer, and a best friend to Jean-Luc Picard. Until Beverly Crusher. Of course that was only the short version, since Jack had been famous, or rather infamous for accidentally killing Picard's child in an effort to see his rival humiliated by the destruction of his ship. After that event, Jack saw his life spiral out of control and eventually he was banned to the Ferengi territories where he had no doubt been abused and exploited in all sorts of ways for the past thirteen years. Certainly he had never been expected to emerge form such an ordeal. Now that it was reported that he had survived and was again scheming for his own ends, only served to weaken the standing of both Picard and Beverly Crusher, who it was clear should have killed him when they had a chance. Based on Beverly's thoughts, Jack shold have been on Terra, cutting off Data's head. Instead, his likeness was standing in front of her. Had she not been a telepathic marvel, she might have been fooled. But this person was not Jack Crusher any more than she was.

The man in front of her looked disheveled, and his nose had recently been broken. Aside from that, he seemed quite please with himself. He opened his mouth to reveal a bright shining smile, despite the fact that Troi's guards were holding his arms tightly behind his back. "I can explain everything," he offered, still beaming at her.

Deanna clicked her tongue and walked forward. "Let me stop you right there...because I don't like lies. You can't tell me everything, because you know only some things... but I will take from you all that is of any use to me." She nodded at the guards. "Hold his head still."

M began to writhe, but they gripped his neck and jaw in a way that made it impossible for him to move. Slowly he felt a warm but uncomfortable spike of intrusion enter his mind.

Deanna walked away slowly, hands clasped behind her back. Slowly she raised her head and turned to him with a knowing smile. "Is my counterpart really that weak? How funny. I would love to meet the Lesser Deanna." She walked closer. "Until now, no one has known who you are...not really. You prefer to go by the name 'M'. That's fine...it'll be our little secret for now."

His legs suddenly turned to jelly as another spike of heat probed further into his mind. "Ah-ahh,"he exclaimed unintelligibly.

"Really? Picard plans to take the Lesser Enterprise to confront Jack...he plans to reunite with Beverly. He has no idea about Jack's plans, only that he has returned to us. And you M, have been colluding with Beverly, with Picard...really anyone you believe will be able to save you in the end. And now you wish to collude with me." She stared at him a moment longer. "That's all for now. I have what I need."

"Orders sir?"

"Put him in the cell with Crusher. If he survives the next few hours, I may have other uses for him."


	66. Chapter 66

**Chapter 65**

 **ISS Enterprise Borg Saucer**

He had the urge to cough, but his chest was frozen. The masked person loomed over him, wielding some kind of instrument. The eyes above the surgical mask were cruel yet interested, the sleeveless uniform was now unfortunately too familiar for him to take comfort in seeing a physician. But at least he was alive, and inside some kind of hospital. He turned his aching head and could see Jenice laying on a nearby examination table. Her eyes were shut tightly and her face and neck were covered in mottled bruising. He raised a trembling hand to see that his own skin also was severely bruised. His mouth, nose and eyes burned. _I feel as though I've been turned inside out._ That's right...they had been blown out into space, thanks to the Terran Riker's sadistic game of dismantling Picard's getaway ship one piece at a time.

They were talking about he and Jenice as though they weren't there, so he shut his eyes and told himself to remain still. "The blonde's about thawed out," scoffed one of the medical staff. "They're both lucky Riker took pity on them, although I can only imagine what he's got in store for them now. They both got radiation burns and some frostbite, which I've treated along with the dermal bruising. His nose and ears keep bleeding...that'll stop eventually with some luck."

"Lucky they were probably unconscious for most of it. About twenty more seconds and this one would have said goodbye to her lungs permanently."

"And another 60 seconds and their blood would have boiled. Oh well, that's why mom always said whatever you do, don't get blown out into space, son." The medics fell into raucous laughter at that.

He felt one of them nudge his shoulder roughly. "Do you think it's really him?"

"Picard? Hmm. Looks like him at least. I for one thought he was dead."

"If Riker's smart he'll kill him now, first thing's first. The longer he's alive the greater chance he'll gain the crew and his ship back."

"What's left of it."

* * *

"Picard is on the Lesser Enterprise," said Troi, leaning her elbow on the captain's chair. Riker continued to stare off into the distance, so she continued. "I'm sure of it based on my scans of both Crusher and this M fellow who has been having a wonderful time impersonating Jack Crusher. I also learned that Picard intends on tracking down the real Jack and confronting him."

"Meanwhile the real Jack is capturing Data's head from Terra? This is so damn _weird_ ," said Riker., finally glancing up at her. "The real question is how can we use this all to our advantage?"

"Easily," said Troi. "We intercept the Stargazer, board them... and I politely interrogate Jack and find out his plans. After that, we kill everyone on board and take Data's head for ourselves."

"What the hell are we supposed to do with Data's head?" Riker eyed her.

Deanna smirked. "Everyone else is thinking about this the wrong way-trying to use Data to somehow stop the Borg. The Borg cannot be stopped. But perhaps they can be contained. If not in this universe then perhaps in another."

"Are you saying..."

"I am simply saying that if we have Data's head, then no one else does."

"And with all the knowledge of the Borg collective, it's got to be worth something," Riker admitted. "Could be a valuable weapon."

"Right. And if all of this carnage at Terra means the end of the Terran Empire, it certainly won't mean the end of Troi and Riker."

"Riker and Troi," he corrected her.

She smiled and patted him on the shoulder. "As I said, _Troi_ and Riker. All of our enemies are either dead or severely compromised, Will. Now is the time to gather our strength and finally leave this universe behind." She had never given up her plans to exit to the Lesser universe and wreak havoc, and as far as she was concerned, recent events had made that goal even more possible.

"Deanna, have I ever told you that you inspire me...but let's say your plan to intercept the Stargazer works. Picard's going to intercept as well, and there is no way he is going to give up without a fight..."

"Unless he doesn't even make it to the fight," said Deanna with a sly smile.

Riker sobered. "Go on."

"Let's give him enough credit that he's somehow gained control of the Lesser Enterprise and is now intending to seek his revenge on Jack Crusher. All we have to do is make him believe the Stargazer is somewhere it really isn't. We've got a Borg hybrid vessel here...you've proven the new saucer can even survive warping through another ship without sustaining so much as a scratch."

"That w _as_ pretty impressive, wasn't it?" Will looked up at her lovingly, but the intense look on her face spoke volumes. Deanna was plotting "Hmm. Well, I'm sure we could come up with a convincing enough copycat signature and divert him to some random coordinates. For now if the best we can do is to lose him, then I'm fine with that." He gripped her hand which still rested on his shoulder. "But I won't be satisfied until I see him beg for his life, Deanna." She leaned down and smiled into their kiss. It reminded him that while he'd been with several women since Deanna's disappearance, he hadn't been with Deanna since her recent reappearance, which was a shame, really. "I've missed you," he said, still smiling.

"I know," she said, pulling away, the intensely focused expression back on her face.

"What about the Lesser Picard?" Riker questioned, as a new problem dawned on him. "Shouldn't we just kill him off? It's just not fair; two of him existing in one universe."

Troi glared at him like he was crazy. "You can't do _that_. Not while the loyalty of our new crew is so precarious."

"What are you talking about? They've sworn their allegiance to us."

Troi rolled her eyes. "You are missing perhaps your best opportunity to boost your reputation among this cobbled together crew, Will. Do you know how close these idiots are to staging a mutiny?"

He stared at her blankly. "Huh?" He glanced quickly around the bridge. Everyone was busy at their posts. Not that there was much for them to do now, as the ship pretty much ran itself. There were times when it occurred to him that maybe the ship running itself was maybe not such a good thing. But this was not one of those times.

"Do I have to do everything around here?" She slapped him lightly in the chest, and walked in back of him to stand at an intercom. " _Attention crew, this is Chief Information Officer Troi. Just hours ago, you declared your allegiance to Admiral Riker, in a last ditch effort to secure places for yourselves in a dying empire. It remains to be seen whether such empty oaths will be sufficient to save your pathetic lives. And so, I demand that you all take notice of the following facts. A few hours ago, we brought the broken body of your former captain on board. That's right, we've got Picard, found him scurrying away. Fleeing from Admiral Riker. He went so far as to alter his appearance to try and escape our grasp. But we have him. Let this be a lesson to you all...even the mighty Picard has fallen at the feet of Admiral Riker. Consider that before you even think of betraying us. Troi out."_

Troi sauntered back to Riker. "You see, that wasn't so difficult? Our Picard is out of sight and mind, and the Lesser Picard is now within our grasp to use him as we would like. And the crew is yours."

Riker nodded. "Sounds good to me."

Troi rolled her eyes again and hit her security panel. "The Klingon is back in custody," she read from the screen. "And Picard and his mystery friend have been released from medical." She scrolled down further. "Looks like Chief Argyle was able to remove the android from the wreckage of Crusher's shuttle...mostly. But he's still non-operational. Given his passing resemblance to the Emperor, he could prove useful to us. It's time for us to seize opportunities Will, not squander them as we did in the past."

"I guess the detention area will be full-up again," said Riker.

Troi shook her head. "No...I think Beverly Crusher could use some roommates to break her solitude." She beckoned to one of her staff. "Move Crusher to the largest cell we have, and then throw the other captives into the same cell until further notice."

* * *

 **Hello there, thanks for following this story... -PP**


	67. Chapter 67

**Chapter 66**

 **USS Enterprise, Deck 34**

Wesley halted in mid-step, momentarily perplexed by the hooded figure crouching in corridor B-1. The hallway was dark, save for utility lights which blinked on and off. He hadn't seen T'Pel since just before the Terran invasion of the ship, and she had been one of the officers who had remained with Commander Riker,. She rose silently and turned to face him, pulling her hood back.

"Wesley Crusher," she said simply.

"Hi. Uh...what are you doing?" He gestured at a small cylinder she had been fiddling with on the deck.

T'Pel's elegant features remained still. "Commander Riker has requested that I attempt to hinder the progress of the assimilated individuals we beamed from the Phoenix."

"What do you mean 'progress'?"

"It is my supposition that these individuals are now in communication with the Borg, and are attempting to assimilate this ship. Interference by the Terrans has only complicated matters. The Terran' sabotage might not have been so effective had this ship not already been compromised."

Wesley's mouth hung open in simultaneous horror and confusion. He nodded at the cylinder she had been working on and he now noted that there was another cylinder placed up ahead at the next junction. "Are those subspace transmitters?"

"They are," she said simply.

"Oh. We use that type on away team missions sometimes...you know, to keep everyone in communication."

T'Pel raised her slender black eyebrow. "I did not realize you were a Starfleet officer."

"Oh...well I am. I mean, I was, until I resigned..." _Like an idiot._ He folded his arms, trying to keep his composure as a wave of anger and embarrassment began to rise inside of him. "It's my fault that the Captain was kidnapped," he suddenly blurted out. "It's my fault he's gone, and probably never coming back. I was so pissed off that he and my mother were falling in love, and I wanted so much to believe that guy was really my father."

"I see. Excess emotion often causes confusion and internal suffering. Your emotional attachment to Captain Picard has precipitated this pain, which humans refer to as guilt."

"So you're saying I should...try not to be so emotionally attached."

"I did not say that," she said plainly. "You are a human, therefore your capacity to control your emotions is substantially inferior to that of Vulcans."

Wesley had the slight impression that he had just been insulted, but decided to wait and see if T'Pel had any further cryptic advice to offer. But instead the Vulcan scientist turned back to resume the work she had been doing when he interrupted her.

Wesley dropped his hands to his sides, aware that he had been squeezing his arms defensively to his chest. He took in a few deep breaths before stepping closer. "If you're trying to transmit data to confuse the drones..."

"Yes."

"Maybe I can help," he offered. He knew it would make him feel better, but he couldn't say so. Part of him believed he did not deserve to feel better. T'Pel remained faced away from him, now busily working. "Please?" he finally said.

T'Pel straightened, and reached back to hand him one of the transmitters, and he struggled not to break into a smile.

* * *

 **The Bridge**

Ensign McKnight sprung up from the captain's chair when Riker stepped on to the bridge. Riker patted her quickly on the shoulder as she passed by wordlessly. She was a good officer, and with so many crew changes recently, the value of a single officer could not be understated. There was no need to ask status of the incoming Borg cubes, because one was already visible on the main viewer, and just hanging there.

"Why are they just sitting there? Have they hailed us?"

"No sir," said McKnight, replacing the junior officer at tactical. Worf had been reassigned to monitor the Terran Picard who had taken up occupancy in sickbay, and Riker had not tried to move him, despite the open protests of Doctor Crusher. There simply hadn't been any time between learning of the Borg threat and dealing with the Terrans' sabotage.

"And where is cube number two?"

"Must have gone trans warp, Commander...no sign of the second cube on our sensors."

 _Well call me lucky._ "At least our sensors are working now."

"Only short range sensors, Commander."

Riker sat down slowly, eyes fixed on the viewer. Just months ago he had been in a similar face-off with a Borg cube, and had prevailed only because the right circumstances had been present in that moment. Currently however, he had everything but the right circumstances at his disposal. This ship was not under his control due to what he had originally attributed only to Terran interference; now he knew that the Terran Picard had also been interfered with by the Borg, as had the rest of his people, although Picard hadn't gone so far as to admit that his Borg implant or other Borg incursions were of concern to him. Beverly had made it clear that Picard continuing to interface with the Enterprise, even in its apparently evolved state, could kill him. He was again unconcerned, apparently fixated on obtaining some kind of long sought after revenge against the Jack Crusher of the mirror universe, who according to Picard was the architect of all their troubles.

Riker was in the kind of situation where any number of decisions he made could ensure doom for his crew and this ship. And there was no decision which gave him a clear way out, since the ship's computer refused to take his commands. Making no decisions at all, however, would only ensure their doom more swiftly. Right now, despite his general objection to Picard's invasion of his ship, Picard and his strange but powerful Borg implant was his best bet.

He had shaken Picard's offered hand, sealing the deal, and swiftly left sickbay, feeling the outraged and furious gaze of Beverly Crusher tracking his exit. After leaving sickbay, with only minutes to spare, he had spoken with Geordi LaForge, and instructed him to create a safer interface for Picard, so that he could help them escape the immediate threat of the Borg. However, he had also asked LaForge to create a contingency whereby Picard could be ousted from control, or at the very least, certain ship functions could be kept from his influence. Geordi had been skeptical about the entire plan, but had begun work immediately, using sickbay as his base of operations.

* * *

 **Sickbay**

Geordi did not need to have a Visor positioned on the back of his head to know that he was being stared at. The Terran version of Captain Picard stood nearby, as though poised to leap upon LaForge at the slightest wrong move. Picard was under guard of course, but his hands were free. They had to be, because it now seemed, that his very hands were the key to getting the ship moving again. Following the incident in the computer core, Picard was revived and had successfully re-opened communication with the ship by simply placing his hand on a sickbay panel and issuing commands. Now, LaForge was in sickbay trying to safely reconnect Picard to the ship's functions without killing him. "Do you have to glare at the back of my head like that? Not really conducive to getting my job done here," he snapped, slamming a panel back into place.

"Staring at you keeps me from wanting to kill you, Geordi. Think of it as a fail safe benefiting both of us."

Geordi leaned into what he was doing. Re-routing some of the ship's key functions to sickbay was not easy when there were computer viruses at work. "Right about now, I can't say I feel too safe." He had no idea why Picard seemed to despise him so much, but could only assume it was just a Terran thing.

Picard eyed Worf, who stood not quite directly behind him. "You'll be interested to know Klingon, that in this universe-my universe to be exact, your people are subjects of the Terran Empire. In fact I have made my career on capturing more Klingon territory than any of my predecessors. Even Kirk! On the other hand, your mirror counterpart is just as weak as you are. At this moment he is probably begging Admiral Crusher for a seat on the council. Not likely to happen, especially since I kidnapped him off of his own ship before destroying it."

"You are incorrect about my interest in your words. I do not care," Worf said pointedly.

Picard shrugged and turned back to Geordi. "Well, engineer LaForge, any bright ideas?"

"Not that I'll share with you. Just let me finish here."

* * *

 **The Bridge**

 _"Commander we've got a problem...I mean we've got another problem."_

"What is it Geordi?"

 _"In the middle of building this interface, I've discovered a massive data breach."_ He wondered if he could convey to Riker what he needed to, without letting the Terran Picard know that they had been planning on wresting control from him, once propulsion was brought back online. Now Geordi knew that what had been a long shot attempt at regaining control of the Enterprise was not possible. At least, not under these circumstances, where they relied on Picard to get them out of danger, and the ship's systems were on the verge of collapse.

"Data breach? You can speak freely, Geordi," he added. He didn't trust the Terran Picard, and doubted he would ever have reason to...but hiding information from him at this stage would be nearly impossible, given his connection to the ship. Besides, if there was any inkling of their Picard hidden inside that dark persona, it meant he was capable of seeing reason.

 _"As we discussed, it's clear that the assimilated crews of our sister ships we brought on board are interfering with our systems sir. It's not just the Terrans."_

"I know, I've got T'Pel working on that right now. She and Captain Louvois are keeping them contained, and out of the engineering decks."

 _"I know sir...but I think the damage has been done. Somehow they've been in communication with the Borg cube, sir. That cube doesn't need to scan us, because all of our information has already been transmitted from the drones to the Borg ship. And some of that data they've transmitted is gone for good."_

Damn. "We need to neutralize them, Geordi, before they do any more damage."

" _We can't easily do that, Commander."_

"Find a way!"

 _"Are you willing to kill them? Because that is what it will take,_ " came the reply.

* * *

 **Sickbay**

Picard sighed and sat down on the edge of a bio bed, ignoring that the big oaf of a Klingon had followed right behind him. This so-called standoff with the Borg was incredibly boring. He gripped his knees tightly, eager for action. He was aware that he could slip past Worf, overpower Geordi and simply force a union with the ship again. But in the back of his mind, he knew that he might die without the proper safeguards in place. It was clear that his body was evolving due to the implants, but he had to stay in control of it all. If he blacked out again after getting the ship out of harm's way, the Enterprise crew would capture him. More so, if he didn't get the ship out of danger, he would most certainly either die or be captured by the Borg. Beverly had been right. Both Beverlys. The implant was possibly more trouble than it was worth. He ceased his pondering, and listened in on LaForge and Riker's conversation. Interesting. Some of the Starfleet crews captured by Troi had been re-captured by the Lesser Picard, but alas they had been assimilated. Now those drones were doing damage to this ship. It occurred to him that if he could obtain control over these drones, they could be very helpful to his plans. At the same time, if they were doing damage to the ship, they could be under Borg control and might need to be disposed of. Then he heard Geordi say to Riker: "Are you willing to kill them? Because that is what it will take."

His spirits lifted, he slid off of the bed abruptly, causing Worf to pull out his phaser and point it at him. "Did someone say kill? I can do away with these drones easily once I am hooked back up to the Enterprise," he declared. Beverly Crusher stormed towards him seemingly out of nowhere, but then again, this was her sickbay.

"No you won't!" Crusher stopped when Worf reached back to contain her, but her fury still caught him by surprise. Up until now she had been so mild-mannered.

Picard smiled. "That was all it took to regain your attentions, I see."

"You want my attention? You have it. You have to promise me that you won't harm those poor people, or our deal is off!"

He walked closer to her. " _Our_ deal? Doctor, if memory serves, I made that deal with Riker, not you. Now, I will consider striking another deal with you...of course, you might not like the terms-"

"Shut up, and leave her alone!"

Picard's head swiveled to find LaForge standing there. "What did you say?"

"I said leave her alone. We won't be intimidated. And I promise you this, if you try and harm those drones, I'll find a way to incapacitate you, I don't care if it disables the ship again. In our universe we don't kill unless forced to, and we certainly don't kill our own people!"

"If you think those automatons roaming this ship are still your people, you're a fool, LaForge. And if you think I'm a threat, just allow them to continue to do what they will and pay the price for your stupidity."

Geordi shook his head. "We may be in your universe, but this is still _our_ ship."

Picard sprang toward him, grasping the engineer by the collar, yanking him close. "Let me tell you about my universe, LaForge...in _my_ universe, you are sleeping with my _wife_. And for that I _will_ kill you." Geordi grabbed his wrists tightly, but he tightened his grip, turning to look at Beverly. "Is that what's going on here? Are you sleeping with him?"

Beverly grabbed LaForge by the shoulders and pulled him backwards protectively, as Worf slammed his phaser down on Picard's shoulder. The Terran staggered to the side, then straightened again, considering making a grab for Worf's phaser, but then found it pointed at his chest. The Klingon let out a low growl. He exhaled, leaning over with his palms on his knees as he stared down at the deck. Physical pain he could deal with, but he had to get his emotions under control. He had experienced this before with Yar, after they had first infiltrated this ship. She had wisely tried to warn him of the danger he was in. These violent bursts of pent up emotion were normal for him, but were being exacerbated by the implant, no doubt. He couldn't let his hatred for the Terran LaForge compromise his plans, no matter how satisfying it was to attack even his look-alike. He stood up straighter.

LaForge was straightening his uniform, and both he and Beverly looked highly unsettled as they glared back at him. "Are you done?" LaForge snapped. "Because your interface is ready."

* * *

 **The Bridge**

"Second Borg cube incoming," McKnight shouted. "It's positioned itself directly behind us twenty thousand meters away, sir."

 _Oh, what the hell._ "Hail them."

"Hailing frequencies open sir."

"Attention Borg ships, this is the USS Enterprise-"

 _"We are Borg. Your ship is in the process of assimilation. It will be returned to Terra."_

"No, that's not going to happen," said Riker, feeling his skin begin to crawl.

 _"Your crew will be disposed of with the exception of the Picard, who will be indoctrinated further upon his return to Terra."_


	68. Chapter 68

**Chapter 67**

 **In Orbit around Terra**

"LaForge, you need to get back up here soon, we're running out of time." Jack panned his viewer 360 degrees. All around the Stargazer were the remains of hundreds of dissected and dismantled Fleet ships, floating and tumbling past Jack's ship. Although his re-fitted Stargazer had a cloaking device which was advanced enough that it could still use the deflector shields while in operation, his shields had been so battered by careening projectiles that the cloak was beginning to falter.

 _"What do you mean? All you're doing is babysitting the ship. Couldn't be bothered to carry out your own plans, not that you really have anything to offer-""_

"Just get up here...you don't even want to know what's happening right now!"

What had been happening over the last few moments, was that twelve of the hundreds of Borg cubes in orbit had retreated and were now directing their very precise beams into the sea of space refuse. The same expanse that Jack's ship was floating in. As Jack watched, he slowly began to understand. "They're reinforcing the hulls of their ships from our dead Fleet," he whispered. "We're nothing but spare parts to them."

" _They're doing what?_ " was LaForge's static-filled response. " _What the hell is going on up there, Jack? Don't you even think of abandoning us here-"_

Jack hadn't realized the channel was still open, and he slammed his hand down, ending the call. A moment later, another call came in. The signature sent a chill through him, but he didn't dare hesitate to link up. He sighed internally, glad it was audio only.

 _Where is the android's cranial unit, Crusher?_

"We'll have it in just minutes."

 _You were instructed to handle this matter on your own. By bringing additional parties into the equation you have complicated matters._

Jack steeled himself. "You were asking me to do the impossible. I needed help from people I could trust."

 _Can we trust you, Jack Crusher? If not, your permanent delivery back into Ferengi hands will be simple to arrange._

"No, no, I can do this, I _am_ doing this. Just give me a little more time."

The cold chill persisted on the bridge even after the channel cut out abruptly. Jack sat uncomfortably for a few more minutes until a strange popping sound and a low whine filled his ears. Spinning his chair around, he could see the three figures reappearing on the upper bridge. Moving to the transporter controls it wasn't long before he could see that there were actually three _and a half_ figures now shimmering into existence.

All three were breathing hard from exertion, especially Pots, and Geordi and Wesley stood side by side, holding between them the upper half of a very pale and apparently unconscious being. Emperor Data.

Jack rushed forward, elated, yet confused. "You were just supposed to get the head, not his whole torso! What happened?"

"Long story," said Wesley. "Let's get out of here, Dad."

* * *

 **ISS Enterprise-Borg Saucer**

"I don't care what information he does or doesn't have. Keep him in isolation until I say so! Troi out." She spun around on her heel to find Will had entered their shared quarters. "Goddess, what a bunch of idiots we've inherited," she complained, turning back around to view her daily reports.

Will smiled broadly encircling her with his arms. "It's pretty much the same crew we had before, D. Of course we've got Crusher's people too now."

"Well they've got no love for her, except for Barclay of course. He's her one remaining loyal soldier."

"Poor guy can barely get out a sentence," said Will sounding more sympathetic than he felt. "Is that who you were talking about when I came in?"

"Yes. I've got him hidden away from Crusher. The less contact she has with anyone helpful the better. Lucky for us, she inspires nothing but hatred in everyone she meets."

"And lust," Riker added. "Hatred and lust."

She leaned back to look up at him. "Oh is that right?"

Riker shrugged and smiled with false modesty. "Once upon a time, she caught my eye..."

"But you didn't catch her, did you?" She elbowed him in the ribs.

"Ow!"

Deanna turned into his embrace, and stroked his chin. "Will, don't get any ideas where it comes to Crusher. I don't need you mucking up my plans."

"Your plans?"

"Will, I know your competition with Jean-Luc runs deep, but as far as I'm concerned, you're just as expendable as he is. So don't fuck this up for us with your immature games."

Riker sighed, and tightened his arms around her waist. "I love you too." He was leaning down to kiss her when the comm unit beeped. Riker rolled his eyes, but Troi was already pulling away.

"What is it?" she demanded.

"Commander Troi, the Stargazer is out of cloak...we've picked up their coordinates, headed away from Terra at warp three."

"Track them for now, we're not quite ready to intercept. What I do need you to do is to send out the signal we talked about. You still have the position of the Lesser Enterprise, correct?"

"Aye sir."

* * *

 **USS Enterprise**

 **Deck 23**

Captain Phillipa Louvois was exhausted. It had been days since she had rested properly, let alone slept in a bed for more than a few hours at a time. She had discarded her well put together appearance some time ago, in favor of a more relaxed approach to her job. The fluctuating temperatures due to Terran interference had driven her to wearing a heavy security coat over her uniform. She had agreed to defer to Commander Riker with regard to most matters, as he simply had more field experience than she did. She was glad she had done so, because the one task she had been required to accomplish was nearly impossible. The former crew of the Phoenix, which had been beamed over when she was briefly in command of the Enterprise during the battle with the Borg cube and attempted rescue mission had been at the very least altered by the Borg.

Until recently, it had been unclear just how much they had been altered. Now, as they wandered the ship silently except for the sound of whirring servo motors, stopping at various wall panels, it was clear they were in communication with a ship that no longer obeyed the commands of its human crew. "Just keep them out of the engineering decks," Riker had ordered. She had worked with Lieutenant Singh and his teams to set up security checkpoints throughout the engineering decks, and their work had been completely successful, the altered drones showing no interest whatsoever in advancing to the more sensitive areas of the ship. And then when the red alert began to blare, everyone assumed correctly that the Borg had arrived. Louvois stood watching three drones who had been attempting to access a control panel on deck 23, just beyond the energy barrier. She found herself transfixed by the mechanical efficiency of their movements, and also shocked by the fact that she no longer viewed them as the Starfleet personnel they had so recently been. Suddenly, there were only two drones, then one, and then the corridor inside of the barrier was empty. The Borg had simply disappeared.

* * *

 **-Sickbay**

Picard's facial muscles twitched again and then grew still. From a standing position, his right hand was literally plugged into the reinforced wall panel LaForge had built.

"I think we're good," said Geordi, finally allowing himself to breathe freely. For better or for worse, the Terran captain was now plugged into the ship's main computer matrix. He glanced at Beverly quickly. "All systems showing he's fully integrated now."

"Heart rate is slightly elevated, but I think I can keep it at a safe level," said Beverly, standing at a monitor nearby. "No guarantees," she added under her breath. She preferred not to look at Picard because he now reminded her of every Borg she had ever seen, standing motionless in front of a computer panel, awaiting instructions. Every Borg she had ever seen...including Locutus. She exhaled loudly and met Geordi's gaze. "I can't believe we're doing this...any of this. How can Will trust him with all our lives when all he's shown is contempt for this crew? I might not have Jean-Luc anymore but I still have my son and daughter to protect."

Geordi's brow furrowed. "I hate to say it doc, but for now he's the best chance we have to stay ahead of the Borg...and to stay alive." He paused. "By the way...that whole conversation before-"

"Oh, you mean when he almost strangled you? Geordi I saw the look in his eyes. He is absolutely insane."

LaForge rubbed his throat, recalling the unpleasant encounter. "Well aside from that...I mean I know it was awkward and everything, but it doesn't have to be-" Beverly just stared at him, so he continued. "I mean, those people he's talking about...they're not us." He swallowed suddenly feeling incredibly self conscious under her serious gaze.

Then suddenly Beverly laughed, and waved her hand in the air dismissively. "Geordi, as far as I'm concerned if it causes him just the slightest bit of discomfort, I hope he _does_ think I'm sleeping with you!" She turned and walked toward Worf who was speaking to one of his officers near the main sickbay entrance.

The engineer watched her leave with growing unease before tapping his communicator. "LaForge to Riker."

* * *

 **Bridge-a few moments earlier**

"What do you want with Picard?"

 _Borg intentions are irrelevant. Humans and Terrans are irrelevant. We will confiscate the Picard and the Enterprise._

Riker wordlessly gestured to McKnight and she cut the channel. He knew by now that it was futile to argue with the Borg's hive mind.

"Orders, sir?"

"Full power to forward and aft deflector shields..."

"Controls are still unresponsive."

"Alright...then we wait." He tapped the control panel on his armrest. He noted with dismay that propulsion was still in the red when his communicator beeped.

 _"LaForge to Riker."_

"Go ahead LaForge, tell me something good."

 _"We're linking him up with the ship now, Commander..._

"Do you have the coordinates I gave you?" He knew the whole thing was a long shot, but they had received an encoded distress call from Captain Picard, so at the very least, the captain had been alive a few hours ago. Riker and the Terran captain had agreed that once linked up with this ship, he would take the Enterprise to rendezvous with the Terran ship the Contagion, at which point Riker would be on his own to negotiate with Admiral Crusher for the return of the Captain and Data. The details of the agreement didn't go any further than that, because there hadn't been time. Riker hoped that Picard would take his obsessive revenge-seeking against Jack Crusher off of the Enterprise, but decided he would deal with that problem after his own people were back on board.

 _"Yes. The coordinates have been set, but uh...wait something's happening-"_

"Geordi? Geordi!"

The channel cut off abruptly with the sound of phaser fire. Riker jumped up. "Security, what's going on in main sickbay?"

 _"Worf here...Commander we are-"_

There was a high pitched whine and Worf was cut off.

"Get him back," shouted Riker.

"All communication is down, sir."

 _It's got to be the Terrans. Should never have trusted that son of a-_

"Sir!" Riker twisted around to face McKnight, whose hands were moving quickly over the tactical panel. "The Borg ship in the aft position has us in a tractor beam. We're not being drawn in, but we're experiencing a massive power drain." Just as she finished her report the lights flickered on the bridge, and then everything went dark.

"Auxiliary power," Riker shouted.

"Sir, we've got nothing but life support...all other systems are down."

* * *

When all lights shut off in sickbay, and Crusher immediately blamed the Terran captain. His psyche was merging with the ship's matrix now, wasn't it? "Power is down," she yelled. "What the hell just happened? What's he done?" There was a quick fizzing sound and the first Borg drone appeared. It took her a moment to realize that this was one of the rescued Starfleet officers, and in that moment six more drones popped into sickbay. They began to march solemnly around the perimeter of the main space, scanning with their optical implants. She reached under a bio bed and pulled out a small phaser, hesitant to use it for all of the reasons she had raised with the Terran Picard. LaForge was talking to Riker over his communicator, when the area erupted in noise, and he rushed to her side. They crouched down, taking cover behind the examination table.

"Wait!" Worf was shouting to his officers who had streamed in from the corridor, firing phasers at the intruders. Now aware of a hostile presence, the drones raised their shield defenses. "Cease fire," Worf ordered. One of the Borg turned in his direction, and waved its metal gripping mechanism at him briefly, before heading further into the room. Everyone seemed frozen, waiting to see what the Borg would do next.

Beverly and Geordi seemed to realize at the same time, why the drones had arrived just now. The Terran Picard stood just as still as before, his hand extended into the wall. "They're here for him! Worf!"

Worf adjusted his weapon to a multi-phase setting and fired a short burst at the lead drone. He recognized her vaguely as the former captain of the Phoenix. The drone's shields adjusted well, and she continued her slow trudge forward. Worf fired again, and this time, the support drones fired opened fire on him with various beams and cutting tools. Worf dove to evade getting hit, and the lead drone closed the distance to Picard. As phaser fire from Worf's officers now crisscrossed the room the lead drone released some kind of beam, which struck Picard in the back. He staggered forward, but remained standing, just leaning farther into the wall. Undeterred, the drone moved around to view Picard's connection more clearly with her single eye, and apparently decided that he could be salvaged without his hand. It emitted a cutting beam across his right forearm, causing Picard's face to contort with pain, but he did not seem able to say a word in protest. A moment later, there was a burst of blue energy as a shield surrounded Picard, tossing the drone backwards onto the deck.

As everything grew still again, Beverly crawled forward and stuck her head out to get a look at what was going on.

"Watch out, they're about to transport," Geordi was saying from behind her. "I can see it," he said, holding fast to her arm so she could not go forward. He was correct as one by one the Borg disappeared from sickbay, including the apparently inactive lead drone who was lying motionless on the deck when she was beamed away. LaForge immediately jumped up and rushed over to Picard's side to check the readouts. He turned back to Beverly, who was checking his vitals. "He was injured by that drone, but I can't do anything as long as he has this protective shield up." She stepped away, and ran a hand through her hair. The lights and power were all back on in sickbay, but she was afraid to ask Geordi directly what had happened.

"We've gone into warp...no Borg vessels in sight, but I can't...oh no, I can't tell where we're headed."

"What is our rate of speed?" Worf demanded, approaching with a scowl.

Geordi shook his head. "I don't know. It's off the charts."

* * *

It was the most high pitched scream he had ever heard. He just wanted it to stop piercing his ears, but then realized that all he had to do to make this happen was to stop screaming. The feeling of flying headfirst through the expanse of space at warp speed was like dying. But once he realized he was still alive and simply one with his beloved ship, it was completely wonderful. But unexpectedly, he was heading somewhere he had not anticipated. He wasn't about to fly to Riker's requested coordinates. He wasn't some kind of taxi service after all. Imagine Riker believing a firm handshake would seal the deal. The last thing he wanted to do was find the Lesser Picard. No, he was going to find Jack...but the problem was that Jack's coordinates had shifted very far from where he had anticipated they would be. His sensor located a signature for the Stargazer at a much more remote destination. Could it be a trap? Possibly. However, a trap could be evaded, as he had done so many times before; and once the trap had been slipped, the hunter could be eliminated.

* * *

 **Hey thanks as always for your readership and reviews! -PP**


	69. Chapter 69

**Chapter 68**

 _ **USS Enterprise**_

Will Riker's eyes were watering like crazy, but he kept them stubbornly fixed on the view screen. His fingertips hadn't stopped gripping the armrests, and he had been in this tense position since McKnight shouted "We've gone into warp!" The ensuing few minutes seemed like hours, as a rainbow of stars streaked by and around the Enterprise at unfathomable speeds. Even if they had been in control of the navigation of the vessel it became clear that the rate of speed and course direction were either not being calculated, or not being recorded. The bridge's instruments, along with everything else on the Enterprise now answered only to their Terran master. Riker clenched his jaw, and refused to avert his eyes from the bizarre show on the view screen. He knew immediately what it reminded him of. Three years earlier when the Traveler had first been on board the ship, his experiments with the warp engines caused the Enterprise to be thrown to the galaxy M33 at the the far reaches of the known universe. During their travel to M33 there had been an incredible visual spectacle outside of the ship; the kind of light show that was unforgettable. And now it was happening again. The ship was being catapulted somewhere and he, Riker, would be tasked with not only regaining control of the ship, but returning to their universe of origin. Picard was in control, or at least believed he was, and this...this was the result, for better or worse.

Abruptly, when Riker was thinking that this would never end, the ship began to slow.

"Warp velocity is now measurable," reported the helmsman. "Warp nine point five...warp seven...warp five..."

There was a churning sensation as the bridge seemed to spin, but Riker suspected that it was in fact the Enterprise which was spinning through space end over end. There were shouts of confusion around the bridge. Will felt the bile rising into his throat, and closed his eyes.

 _Artificial gravity malfunction due to rapid deceleration,_ reported the ship's computer. _Repairing inertial dampers._

"We've come to a stop," said the helm.

"Status," Riker forced himself to say.

"Sir...sensors are active and scanning...but I have no control over them, sir."

"Well...what the hell are they reporting?"

"Unknown sir...I mean, whatever the ship's sensors are reporting makes no sense!"

Riker heaved himself to his feet unsteadily. He tugged down at the edge of his tunic. "Where are we?" he asked quietly.

McKnight leaned over her post at tactical and he faced her squarely. "Sir, wherever we are...it's uncharted."

* * *

 **USS Enterprise-Detention Area**

Deanna Troi was accustomed to having to carefully draw out answers from her patients, and while the process could be difficult, the results were usually positive in the end. But when the person to be counseled was in prison with no foreseeable release, success was rare. Of course, it helped if the counselor knew what she was looking for. In this case, Troi was not so sure. "I see you decided to finally eat. The guards were beginning to wonder if you intended to starve yourself."

The cell occupant was sitting down, legs crossed loosely, eating an apple noisily. The Terran detainee seemed relaxed enough, as she let her elbow drop to her knee casually and glanced up at Troi's approach. Troi wondered for a moment if the remains of the apple would suddenly be hurled in her direction, but in that moment, Yar spoke. "You have no idea how many days in a row I've gone now without an actual meal. What's one more?"

Troi sat down on the visitor's bench so that she was closer to eye level with Yar. "So then what made you decide to eat?"

"Why do you care? You are my enemy."

"Technically only because you made me one."

Yar stared at Troi with curiosity, but Troi noted that there was a watchful dangerousness in her gaze; similar to what she had seen in eyes of the Terran captain. "Well, it looks like we've regained at least minimal power...and I think I felt us go int warp. So it's safe to say Captain Picard is still alive," Yar said slowly, finishing with a small smile.

"How fascinating. You were willing to starve yourself upon learning that Captain Picard was no longer alive."

Yar's smile broadened. "Thanks for confirming my theory. There is no way you people could have regained power without the Captain."

"Fair enough. Yes, he is alive. I see no need to keep this fact hidden from you...you may be interested to know that he's also cooperating with Commander Riker." It was a lie that Yar would no doubt see through. Picard was currently unresponsive, standing motionless in sickbay, and yet still very in control of the Enterprise. Their current coordinates were a mystery. But Yar did not need to know that yet, did she?

Yar laughed, finding Troi's statement egitimately amusing. "Captain Picard doesn't cooperate with anyone-at least not for long. He dominates, which is why Riker's days are numbered."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"What do you think it means? If there is one thing consistent about the captain it is that he always finds a way to eliminate the competition."

"Is it because of his domination over your life that you believe your own survival depends on his?"

"This is his mission. He chose to take me along, even after the others betrayed him. If he dies here, there is no reason for me to go on."

"You are extremely loyal," Troi said. "Some would say to a fault. You have no regard for your own life?"

Yar stared at her blankly for a moment. "You're right, I am loyal. And that's very rare where I come from. The captain knows that better than anyone."

Deanna leaned forward. "You said the others weren't loyal to the Captain. Who are they?"

Yar allowed a hard smile. "So this is an interrogation after all. I didn't recognize your technique at first. Kind of soft...but then you aren't from this universe."

Troi smiled back. "I'm a counselor, not an interrogator."

"Where I'm from there is no difference," said Yar. "It's all Betazoids are good for anyway. First they gather the information, then they use it to destroy you."

"If I wasn't aware that your statement is likely more about my mirror counterpart than all Betazoids, I would say you just made a very racist statement."

Yar rose to her feet and walked over to the shimmering barrier between them. "The Terran Empire was built on racism. Didn't you know that?"

Troi stood up as well. "You sound proud of that aspect of your culture."

Yar shrugged. "That is my culture. Anyway, there's no point in valuing other species when your aim is either to destroy them or bend them to your will. And if we are stronger than they are, doesn't that make us the superior species?"

"Not in my universe," said Troi.

Yar laughed and then walked away into the center of the cell and then turned back around. "The Troi I am familiar with is half-Terran. Are you?"

Troi nodded. "My father was human."

"Close enough."

"And yet, I sense from you that you are amused or even disdainful of the fact that there are certain aspects of her personality that I lack; specifically that my lack of unbridled cruelty is some kind of deficit. Your Troi would never be so weak..."

Yar was clearly taken aback. "My Troi? Deanna Troi belongs to no one. It's clear you don't know who you are dealing with, Counselor. She is the most powerful person I have ever met. Aside from Spock, no other non-Terran has advanced so far within our society."

"You admire her."

"I wouldn't go that far. She's a treacherous bitch who betrayed the captain."

"And yet you are attracted to her."

"But I'd still kill her if given the chance."

"I see. And if you escaped this cell, would you try and kill me?"

Yar's cold smile did not waver, but her eyes shifted quickly to the guard and back again. "Do you really want me to answer to that question? Come to think of it, the way the power's been fluctuating lately, if this detention barrier goes out, you will definitely get your answer then." Yar's clever smile changed to a decidedly predatory grin.

Troi took a deep breath to steady her nerves. Yar was not bluffing, not in the slightest. "Despite your bluster...I sense from you that you only narrowly escaped Troi during your last encounter, and you don't wish to see her again...even with that attraction."

Yar's eyes narrowed. "The captain warned that would be my downfall, and it nearly was. If Troi had managed to gain control of the star drive instead of getting knocked out, you and I would probably not be having this conversation."

"Why? Because she would have killed us all?"

Yar was dead serious. "If Deanna Troi has recovered from that bump on her head, there's still a chance that might happen. But only if we get in her way."

* * *

 _ **Enterprise Borg Saucer**_

Will Riker should have been on top of his game. After all, he had just destroyed the career of the Fleet's highest ranking officer, destroying her ship in the process and taking over her crew. He had unseated the legendary Captain Picard, and had recently promoted himself (legitimately) to an Admiralcy, and the ship he commanded was a technological marvel. And...he had Deanna back. But as he thought about all the pros and cons, he began to consider that perhaps Deanna was the reason he felt so unsettled. He got up slowly from his command chair and walked to the back of the bridge, where Troi was staring intently into her private viewer, no doubt studying her reports. It was Troi's business to know the business of the ship and her crew, and she took her work very seriously. She had eyes everywhere, a tactic she had learned from her mentor-turned-enemy Picard, and she expertly knew how to use people for her own gain. For him, the problem was whether he was willing to allow himself to remain one of those people she used for her own gain. There were things she wasn't sharing with him, and it made him angry, envious of her abilities. Those abilities seemed enhanced since her return. According to her she'd been knocked on the head while on the battle bridge with Yar and the Klingon prisoner, and then had awoken in the sickbay of Beverly Crusher. Now reunited with the Enterprise crew, and lording over the commandeered Contagion crew, Troi had all but declared herself risen from the dead, and was clearly thrilled by her strengthened telepathy and position of power.

He cleared his throat. Troi didn't turn around.

"Will, how subtle...have you forgotten I can sense your whereabouts at all times?"

He did his best lean in. "You're keeping things from me, Deanna. You know how I feel about secrets."

She clicked off her viewer and sat back to look at him. "What seems to be the problem, Will? I'm sensing a great deal of hostility from you...Imzadi."

He felt something spike into his mind ever so slightly, but he ignored her intimidation tactic.

"Did you already send out that phony coordinate signal to Picard?"

"Yes, of course, I took care of that over an hour ago. If you recall, we then proceeded to have mind blowing sex. At least...it blew your mind, if not mine." She turned her viewer back on and turned away from him. "Never fear. We won't be hearing from him again."

He dropped a hand onto her shoulder. " _What?_ "

"Again...this hostility is disappointing Will. We're supposed to be a team."

"Deanna, what did you do to Picard? He's mine to humiliate in the end-we agreed to that," he insisted darkly.

She turned back to eye him triumphantly. "Picard was as much my foe as yours, Will. As you know, Jean-Luc and I shared some...special times together. Hence, I have as much stake in his demise, as you, if not more."

Riker felt his temper begin to boil over. "Where did you send the Lesser Enterprise, Deanna? I know you were trying to get him off the Stargazer's trail, but-"

"I directed their ship straight into a black hole," she said simply.

Will laughed. "You're joking...you would _never-"_

She stood up swiftly, and he nearly fell backwards from the force of her mind. "I would never _what?"_

Aware that the eyes of his crew were upon them, he regained his faculties. "Prove it."

Troi waved to one of the bridge crew. "Marx, find the Lesser Enterprise on our long range sensors."

Marx paused. "Nowhere to be found, sir. Complete drop off."

Troi smiled up at Riker, who remained stunned. "See? _Poof_...like that and Jean-Luc is no more. Looks like he took the wrong detour." Still watching him as she turned and walked to the lift, she said, "I have some business in the detention area. As long as that's fine with you... _Admiral_."

Riker was so livid he could barely speak. "Just as long as you remember who's in charge here, Deanna."

"Always," she said with a slight bow.

* * *

"Where are you taking me?"

The guard was silent, but just shoved her along down the corridor. "I demand to know," she said again, raising her voice, but careful not to betray her growing fear. Former Admiral Beverly Crusher had only been forced to go in an Agonizer chamber once in her life, and now that she was being marched down this hallway, she was beginning to think that there would be second experience. The very thought of it, made her insides roil.

She had no idea where this idiot was taking her. She had spent a considerable amount of time on the Enterprise previously as the ship's doctor and later as Jean-Luc's second in command until things had become irreparable between them, but the ship now seemed very different. Certainly it had been tampered with by the Borg, that much was clear. How else could the saucer have split her own ship right down the middle, and emerge without even a scratch? Riker and Troi were using a technology that was beyond their knowledge, and that, she told herself could very well be their downfall.

They stopped outside of a very large detention cell, she recognized was usually a temporary holding cell for multiple prisoners. _Not the Agonizer after all_. _Not this time at least._ Her heart calmed its thumping in her chest, and she reached up to move the tousled hair away from her face to regain some of her dignity, only to be reminded that her wrists were cuffed. "Well at least I'll have more room," she declared. "As should be afforded to me based on my rank," she added, but the guard just lowered the barrier and pushed her inside. She turned around swiftly to face him once inside, holding up her bound wrists. "What about these damn things?"

"Those stay on...Troi's orders."

"Who's in charge on this ship, anyway? Didn't Riker promote himself to admiral? Don't you find it _odd_ that Troi is running the show?"

"I just follow orders..."

Crusher scowled. She now recognized the guard from her former bridge crew. "You used to follow _my_ orders..."

"Yeah, well...times change."

"Yes, they do," she snapped. "And when the times change again, I'll have your head for this, you traitor."

"Yeah, okay," he said turning to walk away.

"They gave you a red shirt to wear," she shouted after him. "You know what that means, don't you? Idiot..." she said, even as he rounded the corner and disappeared. "Damn it!" she whispered before glancing up at the ceiling. Despite the large room, a single antiquated light hung dimly in the middle of the ceiling, making it hard to see. She turned slowly around to survey her surroundings, until her eyes rested on a still shape lying on the floor. There was something familiar about the person laying there curled up, but her brain felt so muddled with all of the recent events that she couldn't be bothered to even guess. Besides, the light was so low.

She stomped over to the detention barrier and shook her bound hands in frustration. "Guard! Guard! I want a cell by myself!" A moment later she heard several pairs of footsteps approaching; one of them very heavy, trudging toward her cell. She stood, solidly, hands placed strategically on her hips. "Guard! There's an unconscious man in here. I want him removed immediately, is that clear?" Suddenly there were two guards standing in front of her cell, with a single prisoner. Her eyes drifted reluctantly upward. "Oh hell no! I will not share a cell with a Klingon!"

Worf growled down at her. "A pleasure to be reunited, Admiral."


	70. Chapter 70

**Chapter 69**

 **ISS Stargazer Re-fit**

"We're clear of sector 001, traveling at warp eight," announced Wesley from his seat at the helm. "And no Borg in sight." He sat back, feeling both relieved and confused by what had recently transpired.

Jack gave a triumphant shout from the captain's chair and pounded the armrest. "I knew we could do it!"

Geordi, who stood nearby, monitoring Data's systems, paused to try and wipe the clear jelly-like liquid off of his uniform, that had gushed out of Data's midsection. This lubrication was necessary for the android's well-being whether or not he was activated. Geordi would need to find a suitable replacement for the processor lubricant, and get the android patched up as soon as possible. Feeling somewhat disgusted, he continued to wipe at the substance with mixed results. "It's official, I need a shower," he announced to no one in particular.

Wesley stayed at the post a few moments longer deep in thought, before turning around slowly in his seat to look over his shoulder at Pots, who was standing at tactical displaying a very smug expression.

"So...how did you do it?" Wesley suddenly blurted out. "They were coming at us, and then you pulled something out of your grubby pocket and just like that, the Borg drones stopped coming." Wesley got up from his seat. "And so I want to know what exactly you did down on Terra, Pots."

Pots yawned. "Must have been a figment of your imagination, little guy," he said.

Wesley marched up toward the Lesser human. "You're lying, you reprobate. Dad, he's lying!"

"Dad, he's lying!" Pots mocked the teen in a high-pitched voice. "Come on Wessy, maybe you thought you saw something you didn't-"

"My name is Wesley," Crusher screamed, launching himself at the much larger man. Without thinking, he pulled a stylus from his pocket and plunged it into Pots' arm. Pots screamed, and tossed Wesley away. Geordi caught the sputtering teen and grabbed him before he could advance again. Jack, meanwhile, watched silently from the command center.

LaForge addressed Jack, still holding Wesley by the shoulders. "Jack, Wes is right. Pots did something to the Borg soldiers to back them off."

Jack shook his head, seemingly in confusion. "That's not possible, he's just a...a Lesser guy-anyway, even if he did, so what? At least the Borg aren't on our tail."

"Yeah, why aren't they following us anymore, Jack?" LaForge accused. "That doesn't seem strange to you? Are we headed into some kind of trap?"

"No," Jack said quietly, but his eyes were now very intense.

"Oh, _okay_...but we're going to deliver Data's head to a _non-existent_ planet...Romulus, right? You're crazy Jack; insane," LaForge declared, finally letting Wesley go. The teen was still seething, but stayed put.

Geordi stepped over Data's inert torso and headed for a turbo lift.

"Where are you going?" Jack called after him.

There was something in his voice that made LaForge pause and turn back around. "I'm going to take a shower. And by the way, the rest of you guys could use one too-you stink."

As soon as LaForge was gone, Jack gestured to Wesley. "Come here, son."

Wesley threw a nasty look at Pots before approaching his father. "Yeah?"

Jack put a hand on Wesley's shoulder. "You've got a lot of spirit kid. I'm going to need to rely on that energy if we're going to do this right. Now only the Romulans can help us stop the Borg."

"Dad..."

"I know you don't believe me Wes...but they do exist, and we will find them, and they'll help us destroy the Borg. Once that's done, you and I can take over the Empire. Sure we've taken a few hits-"

"Dad, you're delusional..a few hits? Most of our Fleet was destroyed."

"But whatever is left can be re-built, Wesley. Improved upon. We can do that together. But I need to know where your allegiances lie."

Wesley's eyes narrowed. "Are you really asking me to kill Geordi? He may be a supreme asshole, but he's my friend, Dad."

"Just like Data was your friend? But you just cut him in half with a disruptor-"

"That's because I didn't have the balls to cut off his head-

"The point is...you did it for me son."

"I'm not going to kill Geordi-"

Jack's grip tightened, and wasn't so fatherly anymore. "The hard part is over, son. We don't need him anymore."

"The hell we don't! We need him to keep Data's systems intact."

"Watch him, and learn from him then. Because when the time comes, I'm calling on you to eliminate him."

* * *

After Geordi had showered he crept quietly to a computing station on the observation deck. "Computer, communication encryption LG 164..." He waited momentarily. He didn't want anyone up on the bridge to know what he was doing. A much as Wesley seemed to fear and distrust his father, LaForge knew he was fighting a losing battle trying to keep some semblance of loyalty from the teen. Wesley had been searching so long for an adventure to prove himself to his mother, that he could be convinced to do anything, if he believed it would serve that end. Not even Jack's half-baked plans seemed to make the teenager pause. But there was no way that Beverly would allow Jack to live in the end, and Wesley would need to come to terms with that fact. Jack's presence represented divided loyalty from her son that Beverly would never permit. And LaForge was silently preparing himself to be the one to solve that problem for her.

 _"Encryption accepted."_

"Transmission to IMS Contagion...Admiral Crusher's eyes only."

The computer paused. " _Transmission failed."_

"State the reason for failure."

 _"Unknown."_

He waved his palm, activating the view screen. "Computer, show me the current location of the IMS Contagion."

" _Unknown."_

He inhaled sharply. "Show me the most recent coordinates for the Contagion." His brow furrowed as the coordinates displayed as a blinking blue dot on a black expanse. "Two parsecs away from where we are now...not too far." An idea occurred to him. If the Contagion had run into trouble, he knew the most likely reason why. "Magnify." As the view zoomed in, a fairly bare sector of space became clearer. It was so bare in fact, that the presence of a small singularity seemed significant. His heart froze momentarily. "Computer, describe the singularity at these coordinates," he said lightly touching the screen with his index finger.

 _"The singularity is of unknown and very recent origin. A probable wormhole, it is approximately two thousand kilometers in diameter-"_

He leaned forward, feeling the breath exiting his lungs. "Was the ISS Enterprise saucer in that same sector around the same time as the Contagion?"

 _"Affirmative."_

"Calculate the coordinates of both ships in the last few moments before the Contagion disappeared from the active record. At the same time, I need you to give me the coordinates and first appearance of the singularity event."

 _"Exact time of appearance of the singularity and movement of the ships will only be approximate."_

"I don't care," LaForge said. "Just do it and recreate a visual for me," he snapped.

Within a few moments, the computer had attempted a reenactment of sorts. His mouth dropped open as the images filtered through his fingertips. The two ships collided...initiated it seemed by the saucer section...a singularity resulted and both ships disappeared from the screen, leaving only the singularity. LaForge cried out, and jumped to his feet. He paced back and forth with his hands on top of his head, just trying to think and keep his growing despair from overwhelming his sense of reason. "No, no no...she's not dead," he muttered over and over. Gradually his pacing slowed and he stepped closer to the view screen again. "Wait...you showed both ships disappear after the singularity appeared. Why?"

" _You stated that an approximation would be acceptable. It is probable that the sudden appearance of such a gravitational event would have destroyed both ships."_

 _But is that what actually happened?_ "Right...give me the most recent coordinates of the Enterprise saucer."

" _The Enterprise saucer section is currently traveling at impulse power. At our current rate of speed, it will intercept with the Stargazer in sixteen hours."_

Geordi walked away from the computer, trying to soak it all in. The Contagion was the more sophisticated ship, and yet it had disappeared-or so it seemed. And it seemed that the Enterprise, crippled and with only impulse power had survived. The impossible had occurred. The more he pondered it, the more he believed that Beverly Crusher was somehow still alive. And he had a feeling she was headed this way.

* * *

 ** _ISS Enterprise Borg Saucer_**

The guards shoved him steadily down the hall, rarely uttering a word in the process. Before Picard and Jenice had been discharged from the ship's medical bay, they had been sedated again, awaking to find he was wearing a gaudy gold Terran uniform, that was much too tight for him, while Jenice was still clothed in the same grey hospital garb. Now awake but groggy, Picard and Jenice walked slowly but compliantly to what they assumed was some kind of detention cell. He welcomed the solitude to both recuperate from their ordeal in the vacuum of space, and to collect his thoughts, planning his next move. Separation from Jenice would be ideal so that he could contemplate his situation without needing to speak to anyone else. Meanwhile, Data was still missing, and he was beginning to fear the worst. And there was something else troubling. His vision continued to blur around the edges, and didn't seem to be improving. Attempting to keep his spirits elevated, he decided to try and use this new deficit to his advantage if possible.

Suddenly they were stopped and one of the guards addressed the other one: "I'll take it from here, Jackson." There was something in the guard's tone voice that convinced him to be still and listen very carefully.

"You sure? Troi said to watch these two closely."

"Yeah, and it doesn't take two guards for that. Besides, the captain's practically blind," the first guard added in a peculiar voice, at the same time, squeezing Picard's bicep with odd emphasis.

"He's not the captain anymore, Pool. And you better not let Riker and Troi hear you call him that."

The first guard, who was apparently named Pool, grumbled something, while the other's footsteps echoed away down the hall.

Pool urged them both forward again with a disruptor, and Picard glanced over at Jenice. He squinted to see her and could dimly see that she had a formidable expression on her face, and he recalled how easily she had wielded one of the disruptors they had confiscated to make their ill-fated escape from the Contagion. Despite his blurry vision he had the distinct impression that she intended to try and attack the guard. Jean-Luc shook his head slightly, as if to say "not yet" and to his surprise, she didn't object, just directed her eyes forward again, looking mildly disappointed.

Suddenly they were pushed sideways into an alcove. Jenice immediately struck at Pool, but he waved her down. "Look...just play along," Pool said gruffly. "I'm with you," he said pointedly, directing his gaze at Picard.

Picard stared the man down. "What exactly is that supposed to mean?" he asked slowly.

"It means I'm one of your soldiers, Captain," Pool hissed excitedly. "To the death!" He gave a quick salute, but Jenice grabbed his wrist in mid-air.

"Prove it to him-show him!"

Picard glanced at her perplexed, but Pool immediately pulled his tunic over his head. He slapped his bare chest, and Picard could see that there was a strange mark, a crude carving into the man's skin in the general location of his heart. His vision continued to blur, and he rubbed his eyes. _What kind of man is this that makes others mutilate themselves to prove loyalty?_

"I'm afraid I don't-"

Jenice threw Pool's shirt back at him. "Good enough for now," she snapped at Pool, deliberately cutting off Picard. This change in Jenice was extreme, but then he recalled he had seen it before. He had to take care in his dealings with her, that much was clear.

Pool hurriedly put his shirt back on, glancing nervously over his shoulder, but the hallway was empty. Unexpectedly he grasped Picard by the shoulder, and bowed his head. "Captain, I swore to fight at your side until the death, and there are many just like me on this ship who will do the same. Many who have taken the oath."

 _Oath? They really think I'm him...of course it helps that someone went through the effort of dressing me just like my Terran counterpart._ "Exactly how many?" he asked, wondering how far he could take this lie, and if it would even be wise to take it anywhere.

"Several hundred men and women at least! And there are others who are not truly loyal to Riker. Troi has been telling everyone you were captured and have been humiliated in defeat."

Picard remained stoic. "I see."

"But for now I have to take you to your cell. They are bound to send you to the Booth." Pool clapped him on the shoulder vigorously and laughed. "But that'll be nothing new for you, will it, Captain? Just do whatever you can to stay alive," said Pool. "And when the time comes...give the word and we'll be ready to kill for you."

* * *

"As if things weren't bad enough, I'm to be detained in the same cell with a Klingon? And not just any Klingon, but a _weak_ one, who couldn't even begin to follow through the with plans _I_ gave him. Where are the ships you promised me, Worf? _Where_ are my goddamn ships?"

"I have your ships," he said immediately, but then hesitated, noticing the man lying in the corner of the room.

Her interest piqued, she raised an eyebrow at Worf's declaration. "Go on," she urged. Following Worf's gaze to the unconscious prisoner, she scoffed. "He's nothing, probably drunk or dead," she assured him when he continued to stare suspiciously at the prisoner. "Clearly Troi threw him in here just to irritate me. To her, everything is a psychological game to be played."

Worf stepped closer and reached out his hand and Beverly could see there was a small object held between his fingertips. "This is all you will need when the time is right," he said in a low voice.

She eyed it carefully, aware that it could be a portable beacon of some kind. "Explain," she insisted.

Worf glared over at the sleeping prisoner again and lowered his voice again. "It is better you not know all of the details for now." Seeing that she was about to argue again, he placed the object in her hand quickly. "The Betazoid has spies everywhere. She has more difficulty reading my thoughts than yours...the less you know about this object the better."

"You'd be surprised at how well I can handle myself around Deanna Troi," she said.

"You are both arrogant and brave," he remarked.

"Qualities your people would benefit from having more of," she replied. Beverly stared at him for a moment more before tucking the item beneath her shirt.

"Perhaps," he said calmly, aware that she was unlikely to ever thank him directly for what he had managed to do. His brother Kurn had successfully recruited more than enough officers and their vessels. It seemed that now that the Terran fleet was nearly depleted, many of his brethren recognized a power vacuum in the quadrant. They would be willing to ally with Crusher as long as was necessary, before betraying her, repaying some of the many Terran cruelties perpetrated on his people. Worf on the other hand was undecided. He had originally allied with Crushernot only to gain a foothold of power for his people under Crusher's rule, but to stop the Borg. And for now the Borg remained the predominant threat to the galaxy. A victory over the crippled Terran empire gained the Klingons little if they too were wiped out by the Borg. And so patience and watchfulness were in order. Meanwhile, he watched as the Terran Admiral paced away from him, presumably imagining her continued rise to power. Suddenly there were footsteps out in the hallway, and they both tensed, waiting for the next event to occur. One set of footsteps halted, and the other continued smoothly, confidently from around the corner.

Beverly felt a dizzying wisp of an unsettling intrusion in her mind. Troi often announced herself in this way, as if to show just how easy it was for her to violate anyone in the most intimate way, even in passing. Beverly steadied her feet, standing her ground, as Troi stepped, unarmed into the cell. She smirked up at Worf, her smile widening as she faced Crusher. "What a sad sight," she said with manufactured sympathy. "A conspiracy of fools..."

Beverly's face twitched angrily, but she remained silent. Without averting her gaze, Deanna snapped her fingers, and the figure in the corner roused himself, getting to his feet. Beverly laughed, mainly out of reflex.

"Faux Jack."

The familiar face grinned as he approached, winking at Beverly. "Reporting for duty," he said, snapping a salute at Troi.

"Report," she said, still staring at Beverly.

"They're plotting against you," said M. "The Klingon's got some ships at his disposal...and he just gave the Admiral some kind of device that's related to her gaining control of those ships." He smiled at Troi. "How'd I do?"

"Brilliantly," she murmured, holding out her palm to Beverly. "Hand it over," she said in a quiet, but chilling voice. Troi had never allowed hesitation on the part of her subordinates, and would typically retaliate with swift punishment. To her, Beverly was now her subordinate, but Beverly did not and would not ever see herself in that way. So she hesitated. In the next moment she felt she had been struck in the face by some immovable object; perhaps duranium, perhaps stone. But as she fell backwards, stunned more than anything, Troi's mind stabbed like the sharpest knife inside of her skull. Writhing on the floor, all notions of pride and ambition were swept out of the way to make room for the excruciating pain.

Troi saw the Klingon make a move behind her and held up her palm causing him to seize momentarily in place. He let out a slow growl, and Troi nodded toward M, who pulled an agonizer out of his pocket and held it threateningly in front of the Klingon's chest. Worf halted and looked on in angry silence.

Troi stood over Beverly Crusher a few more moments before releasing her hold on the woman's battered psyche. Beverly's eyes remained tightly shut, she lay on her back facing the ceiling, her limbs curled rigidly in a fetal position as a thin stream of blood exited her nose and dripped onto the floor beside her. Troi crouched down beside her rival in an almost relaxed manner. "Now...let's try this again. Where are you hiding it?"

Crusher remained silent and Troi smiled. "You are so stubborn," she said with open admiration. "Even with my genetic advantages I _so_ enjoy sparring with you Beverly." Leaning down she reached her hand delicately into Beverly's shirt and pulled out the item Worf had so recently given her.

"I would have gladly retrieved that for you," M offered with a slimy smile. Deanna got to her feet and waved him aside. "Not likely, pig." She dangled the small black tube in front of Worf's face. "The keys to the Klingon kingdom, no doubt?" Worf glared at her with obvious hatred, but she just flashed him another cool smile. "Good effort, Worf. But as you may have noticed, I have eyes and ears everywhere on this ship."

"And all kinds of Terran trash to carry out your orders," Worf growled.

Deanna laughed and then tilted her head at M. "Well he's got your number, hasn't he? But you're not a Terran...or _are_ you?" She laughed playfully and lowered the energy field, as she and M stepped outside.

Worf knelt down beside Crusher. "She is gone now."

Beverly opened one eye. "I'm fine...just leave me alone."

" _Ptah_..." Irritated, Worf stood up and moved away, just as the field was suddenly lowered again and two more people were shoved roughly into the cell. The man tumbled to the floor, while the female went to his aid while he looked around the room trying to blink away what appeared to be a problem with his vision. Suddenly the woman froze, seeing the Admiral for the first time. A look of pure blood lust crossed her otherwise beautiful face as she took in Crusher's vulnerable condition.

Worf stepped between the woman and Crusher protectively, and that was when he saw more clearly her companion. Tossing the Terran woman out of the way, he rushed Picard, suddenly eager to avenge his dead crew. His ship and crew lost, all because of this Terran scum.

Beverly Crusher opened her eyes and propped herself up on her elbows. Worf had already wrapped his large hands around Picard's neck, when she shouted out, "Worf!" The Klingon turned halfway to look at her when Picard kicked his legs out from under him and then rolled away, dragging himself clear. Jenice rolled toward him. It was clear they had both been injured recently...the effects of decompression often lingered...and Picard's eyesight woes appeared real.

Unfortunately for the Lesser Picard, a very angry Klingon was in that moment mistaking him for a very bad man. Beverly had her own desire to see the Lesser Picard beg for mercy-after all, he was the reason she had lost her beloved ship and had even gone so far as to steal her personal shuttle. Apparently he had destroyed that as well, albeit with Riker's help. The whole experience of seeing him again just thoroughly pissed her off, and made her forget momentarily about her recent humiliation at the hands of Troi.

Worf scowled at Crusher. "This man destroyed my ship and crew! He has been the scourge of the Klingon people for many years. You _must_ permit me my revenge!"

Deciding she was truly uninterested in correcting Worf's mistake, Beverly sighed and laid back down on the cold floor. "Okay. Just promise me you'll get a few hits in there for me too."

* * *

 _ **USS Enterprise Somewhere in unknown territory**_

"I don't understand what's happening here," Beverly Crusher muttered to herself. "His vital signs are steady," she said loud enough for LaForge to hear. "And for the moment he's stable. But he's been going into periodic seizures of some kind. I can only guess that it is the effect of hooking up a human being to a starship and expecting him to take over all of its operations."

Geordi looked up from his temporary post across the room. "Hmm. Before any of this happened, I never would have imagined a person could survive these kinds of violent power transfers. Everything I know about engineering and biology, not to mention this ship, tells me he should be dead. But he's not...and remember, he's the one who wanted this connection, doctor. Not us," Geordi reminded her.

"Yes and as I've mentioned, I think he's insane. But Commander Riker went right along with it, Geordi. And now we're apparently stranded in the middle of nowhere until what? Until he decides to take us somewhere else? Blow up the ship?"

Geordi put down his calibration tool and walked over to her. She didn't look at him, but adjusted one of the electrodes attached to the side of Picard's throat. "He seems to have some kind of intent other than to blow up the ship," he said. "Look, I don't blame you for being angry, but I don't think Commander Riker had any real choice. The Borg were going to-"

She turned to him and her anxiety was evident even through his Visor. "I know. I know what they were going to do. I also know that if he hadn't moved the ship, we would have all died, and I would have lost any chance of finding Jean...the Captain." Her voice dropped to a whisper. She was watching the Terran Captain now with a gaze that was so complex that LaForge could not interpret it. "But he was supposed to take us to find Jean-Luc."

She lowered her forehead into her hands and just stood there for a few more seconds, leading Geordi to shift his weight awkwardly from foot to foot as he stood there. Finally he gained some courage and reached out to touch her shoulder to provide some comfort. She looked at him with tears in her eyes and to his surprise, embraced him tightly. He returned her hug as politely as possible, but when she failed to let go and squeezed him even tighter, he started to feel incredibly uncomfortable. "Um...Doc?"

She pulled back and looked at him, wiping her face as a tear ran down her cheek. She sniffed in. "I'm sorry. It's not like me to-"

He nodded and tried to give her an encouraging smile. "I know. It's okay...really. You've been through so much..."

She smiled, still wiping her cheek. "We all have."

He shook his head. "What you've gone through...well I just can't imagine. I just wish there was something more I could do."

She gave a small embarrassed laugh. "You're a good friend, Geordi. And that's more than enough."

He nodded. "Okay."

Suddenly the cardiac monitors began to wail next to them. Picard jerked forward from his standing position and reached up, violently ripping the monitors from his skin. He swung his arms wildly, as though punching an invisible foe. Beverly and Geordi ducked out of his way as his violent but wordless rampage continued. Finally the Terran dropped to the deck on his knees, cradling his head in his hands.

Gradually his breathing grew more regular, and he looked up at them with a confident gleam in his eyes. "I did it,'" he declared triumphantly.

Beverly did everything she physically could to restrain her rage. "You've stranded us, is what you've done! Where are we? Where is Captain Picard?"

He scratched his chin and frowned up at her, still kneeling. "Is that some kind of trick question? I'm right here..."

Beverly turned away from him and addressed Geordi. "Before I do something rash and violate my medical oath, I need to get out of here. Away from him, to be clear. You and Worf can handle him for now."

Before LaForge could answer, she had walked away swiftly.

Picard got up and tugged absently at the hem of his tunic. "Was it something I said?"

* * *

As Beverly marched her way out of sick bay her communicator beeped. "Crusher here, go ahead."

 _"Mom, it's me, Wes. I'm in our quarters."_

"Oh, good. Have you been resting? That's exactly what I'm planning on doing -"

 _"Mom, it's Jeanette -"_

She instinctively picked up her pace. "What's happened? Is she alright?"

"She's fine...I mean, she seems fine...just different."

"Different? Wesley, you're really scaring me now-"

"It's okay, Mom. But I think it's best if you hear it directly from her."

* * *

Hey, thanks for your patience, I haven't had much time to write recently. Hope you enjoy -PP


	71. Chapter 71

**Chapter 70**

USS Enterprise

 **A few minutes earlier...**

Wesley Crusher shuffled his feet tiredly back to the quarters he shared with his mother and Jeanette. Just a short time earlier, he and T'Pel had been working with little success, to keep the assimilated Starfleet officers from continuing to wreak havoc with the ship's systems. They had overrun the ship like a sort of virus, which in conjunction with the Terran's interference, had removed control entirely from the human crew, forcing Commander Riker to reluctantly cooperate with the Terrans. Then, according to the official report, just like that the Borg officers and the surrounding Borg cubes had disappeared, but not before some of the Borg teleported into sickbay and tried to capture the Terran Captain Picard, presumably at the direction of the Borg ships. Seconds later the ship had gone into warp. Now, they floated in an unknown sector of space.

Yawning, he walked slowly through the living room; his only desire was to take a nap. "Carmen? It's me, Wes." Their living quarters were almost too quiet, and of course, when Jeanette's babysitter did not immediately respond, he grew worried. He picked up his pace a little and entered his mother's room, immediately looking to the crib, which he noted with surprise was empty.

"Have you seen my mommy?"

Wesley nearly fell over, and had to grab the side of the crib to steady himself. A girl with short, bright red hair and freckles sat cross-legged in the center of the floor. She was younger than him, perhaps in her early teens. Only one thing was for sure: he was looking into his sister's eyes.

Wesley gaped. "Jeanette?"

She blinked, and it wasn't clear she recognized him immediately. Then she smiled. "Wesley!"

Still in shock, he sat down on the floor across from her without really thinking it through. "I-I don't understand...is it really you?"

"I need to see Mommy. Where is she?"

"I can call her...just, what happened to Carmen?"

"I don't think Carmen exists here," said Jeanette evenly.

"Here? Where is here? Do you know where we are?"

"We are in the Third Space. I guided us here."

Suddenly it hit him. Jeanette's association with the Traveler...her sudden appearance and rapid development...the mysterious time distortion that had saved the Enterprise during the first battle with the Borg, and his strange experience with the Terran Picard, in which they had both seemed to teleport to a strange world. "Are you a Traveler?"

"What's a traveler?" The girl's innocent expression conveyed that her question was an honest one.

 _She doesn't know who she really is?_ He tried to remain calm. "You said you guided us here...to the Third Space. What is this place?"

"It was created by someone...but now he's not so sure he should have made it, because a lot of bad things have been happening, and it's only getting worse, Wesley. Sometimes people regret their decisions." Her demeanor was so calm and despite the situation, he felt his own stress level dropping.

"Who is this person?"

Jeanette shook her head. "If I tell you, something bad might happen. But I think you will find out later. I only brought us here now, because Papa was going to fly the ship into a black hole. I think he would have regretted that decision."

"Papa?"

"My Papa is flying the ship. But it's not safe. He doesn't know how to do it, and the Borg machinery is hurting him. The next time he flies the ship, I will help him to do better. After that, I need to go away."

Wesley covered his eyes. "Uh...I don't even know what to think. I'm going to call Mom."

Jeanette burst into a warm smile. "Good!"

* * *

Beverly grasped the girl's face gently in her palms. "I can't believe this...can't believe it's really you," she whispered.

Now that her mother was standing in front of her, Jeanette's tone grew more insistent. "Mommy...please listen to me."

Beverly pulled back to look at her daughter. "Of course I'll listen, honey, but this is just such a shock-I mean, I am used to seeing you as a little baby, not so grown up."

Jeanette seemed to ponder this for a moment. "I am still a little baby...but not here. Here I am not a baby. I don't know why I change from place to place, I just do."

Beverly blinked. "Okay. Um...that's alright sweetheart." She looked at Wesley, who still looked like he was trying to figure out a complex equation.

"Jeanette, where are we? Can you tell us?"

"The Third Space."

"We don't understand. Can you explain it to us?"

"Not yet," the girl said, sounding distracted. "You must convince Papa to do the right thing."

Beverly rubbed her arms and looked at Wesley. "Jeanette...he's not here. I mean, I know we'll find him. But I just can't talk to him right now."

"Mommy, he's here on this ship."

Beverly's eyes widened. "Not him...honey, you're mistaken."

"We all exist in different places," said Jeanette simply. "You have to talk to the Papa who's here, not the Papa who's not."

"Do you know where he is?" She struggled with how to ask the question. "Your Papa who is actually _supposed_ to be on this ship?"

"He is not in the Third Space with us. He is in danger."

Beverly felt the urge to sit down on the floor, but clutched at her daughter's arms instead.

"I don't have much time," Jeanette warned.

"Why? I don't understand..."

"The Third Space is growing fast now, and there is a threat."

"The Borg?" Wesley asked.

"Maybe. You'll have to wait and ask him."

"Who?"

"When you get there, I will see you again." She began to fade, and Beverly gripped the girl's arms tighter, even as her form continued to disappear.

"Wait" Wes shouted. "Remember when you were a baby and you threw me up into that bubble? Is that where we need to go? Wait!"

They both heard the sound of musical laughter as Jeanette disappeared into thin air.

Beverly began to pace, clenching and unclenching her fists, muttering to herself.

"Mom! Mom, you've got to get it together," Wesley implored his mother, grabbing her hand. He had never seen her this distraught.

She stopped and looked at him with tears in her eyes. She squeezed his hand. "Wesley, I can't take another person I love disappearing from my life. Please promise me you won't leave."

He wrapped his arms around her. "I promise," he said.

* * *

 _ **ISS Stargazer**_

Jack Crusher turned from his view of the screen to look sideways at LaForge. "This is some kind of joke right? Some kind of ploy to distract me and to turn my son against me. I ought to kill you right now."

"It's not a joke," said Geordi. "This ship created that simulation."

"Because you asked it to!"

Wesley walked toward LaForge. "If this is real, the Contagion has been destroyed. Is that what you're saying?"

"Yes. And now the Enterprise is headed this way."

Wesley's face contorted with pain and disbelief. "My mother can't be dead."

Geordi shook his head. "I don't believe it either, Wes."

"So then what? She's on the Enterprise? Geordi, the Enterprise should never have survived what we just saw in that simulation."

"If Beverly's alive, she may be very interested in knowing what we've just done," Jack said craftily. "She's going to want to know how she can profit from the fact that we have Data's head." He smiled at Geordi. "And I am going to assume that because you're trying to get back on her good list, LaForge, that you've already told her. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you."

Geordi just laughed and shook his head. "Jack...don't be stupid. I'm the only one here who can convince her not to kill you. Your problem Jack, is that everyone wants to kill you. Beverly, Picard...and Troi and Riker will kill you just for fun. I'm sure there are plenty of others..."

Wesley felt like slapping the eerie smile off of his father's face. "Dad, he's right. If Mom isn't in charge of the Enterprise right now, whoever is might just kill all of us and take Data with them."

"I have every confidence in this ship, Wes. We can outrun and outmaneuver the Enterprise, no problem."

"Let's assume that the Enterprise survived a singularity, Jack. Maybe you're wrong. Maybe it's been enhanced somehow."

Jack looked over at Pots. "Engage the cloaking device, change course and go to warp seven, Pots. Get us out of range."

As Pots worked the console, Geordi and Wesley looked at each other and then Wesley nodded toward Data's head and torso that still lay inert on the deck. Together they picked it up and moved it to one of the many empty seats on the bridge. It was a bizarre sight to see Data's deactivated form sitting in a chair. "We should move him," LaForge said in a low voice. "Hide him, in case the wrong people show an interest in nabbing him." Wesley nodded, but glanced over at Jack, who was staring at the main viewer, which showed the stars streaking past them. "Not yet," said Wes. "Let's wait and see."

LaForge walked away, irritated and increasingly worried.

"We're out of there," declared Pots. "No way they'll find us."

"Come out of warp, let's see where we are," ordered Jack.

Suddenly the yellow alert began to blare. _Perimeter alert, Perimeter alert._

"Wow," said Pots. "This is a legitimate problem, Boss," he said to Jack. They all turned their attention to the main view screen. The Enterprise saucer section floated nearby. The outer hull now appeared a silky black, hardly distinguishable from the darkness of space.

"They're toying with us," Geordi said.

Wesley advanced on Jack. "Dad, for the last time, who are you working for? Maybe they can get us out of this!" He grabbed his father and shook him. "Tell me!"

Jack appeared stunned. "It's not that simple, son."

Wes pointed at Pots. "What about you? Do you know?" Pots merely smiled at him.

Wesley shook his father again. And then it hit him. "You have no idea, do you?" He pulled back and touched the scars on Jack's face. "You said you did this yourself. That it was all your idea...to make a clone, to steal Data's head, but that's not the truth is it? You have no idea where we're really headed, or who you're working for." He let his father go roughly. "He's going to get us all killed," Wesley said striding away from Jack's deflated form. "We're dead."


End file.
